The Torn Earth
by starglen
Summary: This is a reincarnation story set in 2020. Merlin's long wait for Arthur is finally over, but why has fate decreed that Arthur should return now? The world has been in greater danger than at present. Yet there is evil lurking in troubled waters and, thankfully, the friends begin to discover that Arthur is not the only one to return.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's notes:- This is my first attempt at a reincarnation story and set a little bit in the future, though it is definitely more supernatural than scifi. This story is a modern one, but it follows from the TV show's finale and ****_not_**** from my earlier story, The Strength of Friendship. It's important that readers remember that, or they might find themselves a bit confused. To tell the truth, I actually muddled myself up when writing this, at first, and I had to go back and make some edits.**

**Featured in this story is the island of Easdale. It is a real place in Scotland, and it was on a visit to this island which inspired me to write this story. A picture of a scene from this chapter came into my head while I was exploring the island, and I just had to go home and write it. However, as I was still finishing writing my first story, I had to make notes.**

**My writing schedule will be similar to last time and I'll try to post a chapter every Friday. I'm not saying I'll succeed in always sticking to that, but I will let you know if I'm ever going to be late in posting. **

**I do hope you enjoy and that you give this story as much support as you did The Strength of Friendship, which is still picking up readers who are so very kind as to comment. You are all so amazing!**

**I'll keep quiet now and just let you read... Have fun and please let me know if you enjoy.**

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The Torn Earth

Chapter One

Rumbles

Merlin Emrys was One thousand five hundred and seven years old, though it had to be said he looked more like a young man in his mid twenties and, for the sake of his sanity and security, had adopted the name Rhys Wilson at the present time.

To be honest, he had lived many life-times since the day he'd been born in the middle of the sixth century and he had let himself age many times over. Well, it would be more exact to say that he had used many ageing spells throughout the centuries because Merlin was unique among the mortals with whom he lived his daily life in the sense that he was immortal.

On the other hand, Arthur Penderel had just passed his twenty-seventh birthday, was the son of a rich and very influential family who owned a global conglomerate and was the epitome of the saying 'born with a silver spoon in his mouth', although perhaps in his case, the spoon was more likely platinum studded with diamonds.

At this moment in time, Arthur was carrying out a special assignment for his father who had sent him north to Scotland to a place he'd never visited; a place he'd never heard of, if the truth were told. He was headed for a tiny island off the west coast of Argyll called Easdale where a very strange phenomenon was happening which was being reported in the local newspaper as being the result of one of Camelot Industries' latest developments.

He'd flown straight to Glasgow where he'd appropriated one of the company helicopters to fly him directly to the spot. Only he'd been informed that wouldn't be possible as, due to some local bye-laws, no aircraft of any kind was allowed to land on the island. The nearest he could touch down was in the car park on Seil and take the ferry, which he now discovered was little more than an open boat with a large outboard motor.

He really had to lay down the law to his PA and support team to do their research better in future. Had he known he'd be squeezed into a small passenger ferry between a few German tourists, a couple of untidy backpackers and a local middle-aged lady with a number of bags full of groceries and a muddy dog, he'd have made sure he'd arrived in one of the company's motor launches.

However, it was too late now and he did have a job to do which involved him meeting up with a geologist called Rhys Wilson, who seemingly worked for him, or Camelot Industries to be more precise.

Thankfully, the journey was only a few minutes' duration and he was soon dusting himself down at the head of the jetty, surveying the surrounding island as he did so. He wandered up the track to look around, passing a more modern building which seemed to be the village hall with a small cafe next door that incorporated a pub. At the head of the track was the village itself, though in truth there wasn't much to see, only a number of fairly old cottages surrounding a grassy square, while a sign proudly pointed across the grass to Easdale Folk Museum. But there definitely wasn't any sign of anyone waiting to welcome him.

Which there should have been if Gwen had done her job as his PA properly... and yet he knew he shouldn't complain. Gwen did her very best to keep him organized, he just wasn't the type of person who liked to conform.

For instance, while he'd been enjoying sunning himself on his yacht in Monaco in anticipation of the Formula 1 Grand-Prix, he'd received an urgent phone call from his father's secretary telling him to get his butt back home ASAP to deal with a looming problem in Scotland. The very fact that it was Katrina who'd spoken to him personally told him this could be something catastrophic. Though extremely miffed to miss the actual race weekend, he'd emailed Gwen telling her to find out as much as possible about this Easdale place and what the problem might be, while he'd flown back to Britain on the first available flight. Thank goodness they'd had a seat in First Class; he didn't do economy well. Yet even economy was luxury compared to this little godforsaken island.

Now where was this Rhys guy? He twisted and turned in the centre of the square, noticing a number of tracks leading in different directions. What the hell? There were no roads on this island, just muddy dirt tracks. He turned up the collar of the rain jacket which had been handed to him by one of the helicopter crew. He'd heard about the amount of rain this part of the UK was subject too, but he hadn't expected it to be so cold. This was summer!

Not too many hours ago he'd been relaxed and warm, entertaining members of the top racing car world, corporate acquaintances and various socialites. Landing in a damp dreary scrap of an island whose lowering skies looked like they were about to drop a ton of water on him was not his idea of fun.

Yet even Arthur admitted he had to work, and at the risk of sounding arrogant, he was skilled at troubleshooting for his father and for Camelot, knowing instinctively when to cajole, or in some parts of the world bribe, and occasionally employ the use of less than gentle persuasion to get the job done. So far, he hadn't come across a problem he hadn't been able to solve.

He might as well get on with sorting out this current complication and the sooner the better. If this boffin wasn't willing to come to him, then he'd better seek him out; after all, there weren't exactly many places he could be hiding out on this tiny isle and he did know the trouble concerned the flooded slate quarries which were dotted around Easdale.

So, which way to go, right or left? Though it probably didn't matter too much, the tracks presumably went all the way round the place. He struck off to the right certain he'd find this Wilson pretty quickly, his boots sinking into the soggy ground as he marched... thank goodness he'd changed his footwear on the helicopter too... and no doubt he'd find the problem was something simple. After all, Camelot Industries didn't have any installations anywhere near this part of Scotland. These scientific guys were always dreaming up weird connotations which very often proved to be more fantasy than fact.

And this Rhys Wilson was a new employee who might prove to be even more of a freak than normal. He'd had Gwen research him too and it turned out he was younger than most of the scientists his father usually employed... a bit of a whiz-kid who'd aced his Graduate PHDs in a couple of subjects which was more than anyone had a right to at the tender age of twenty-five. With his Geology and Archaeology degree, he'd managed to fit in one on ancient British history. Arthur was definitely on his way to meet up with a nerd!

He shrugged his shoulders, admitting that he was a bit of a nerd himself... on the quiet. Alongside his Business and Economics degree, he'd dabbled a bit in ancient history too. What could people expect when he was named Arthur Penderel, his mother's name was Ygraine and he had a great-grandfather who'd begun the family's fortunes after the Great War by selling coal door-to-door in South Wales and called it Camelot Coal?

Even his father was proud of the similarities, and although he wasn't called Uther, thankfully, he did name his son Arthur, thinking it a strange coincidence that the woman he'd fallen in love with and married was called Ygraine.

Hell, there were analogies in Arthur's own life too... though they were more of a stretch. They'd begun in university when he'd made friends with a pretty female student called Gwen. He remembered how they'd met in a cafe where Gwen had knocked his coffee all over him, which hadn't exactly been her fault as she'd been jolted from behind by some crazy kids. The poor girl had been so embarrassed she'd insisted on buying him a replacement drink and offering to pay for having his clothes laundered. The coffee he'd accepted but the cleaning he'd turned down, pointing out that his clothes would be just fine after he'd stuck them in the washing machine, which he was perfectly capable of doing by himself... pampered rich boy or not.

They'd had coffee together and Arthur discovered he enjoyed the company of a girl who didn't seem to recognise who he was and wasn't trying to jump his bones. He remembered how she'd laughed when he'd asked her if Gwen was short for Guinevere, and had only been a little disappointed to learn that Gwen wasn't short for anything... she was just Gwen.

Over time and with an ease which made it hardly noticeable, Gwen had slotted into his life as a friend and confidante, so much so that when they'd both finally finished their studies, he'd offered her the job as his Personal Assistant. A role which neither had ever regretted, though he did tend to take Gwen for granted on occasion.

Something which right now he promised himself he would never do again as he ploughed on through the rain which had now started to fall in earnest. He just hoped that his Girl Friday would show up very quickly with his luggage, his research and, hopefully, reservations at the classiest hotel in this area.

The curtain of rain obscured his view but, as he rounded a corner in the track, he heard sounds of voices from up ahead, though eerily muffled by the atrocious weather. He wiped the raindrops from his eyes and peered into the enveloping murk.

There was definitely a small group of people up ahead, who appeared to be staring at something very interesting at their feet. Something so compelling that they didn't notice him approach, though he was making enough noise squelching and moaning his way through the deep mire to alert all but the dead, or perhaps the rain had suppressed the noise he was making, even when he hailed them. He tried again.

"Hello there! Is any one of you Rhys Wilson? Any of you from Camelot Industries?"

He was practically at their side when he noticed the red rain proof suits they were wearing bore the dragon logo of Camelot. He was about to shout louder, when he observed what was holding their attention...

There was a deep, dark pool on the very fringe of the island, its edges almost everywhere carved from sharp sheer rock, or slate as he later discovered, and almost open to the sea except for a thin stretch of the same black rock. Its surface was ruffled, roiling. Perhaps caused by the rain and the wind, but Arthur soon dismissed that source. Whatever was making the water boil, for that was exactly what it appeared to be doing, was coming from deep below the surface.

Arthur couldn't help but move forward, feeling drawn to the mysterious bubbling water like a magnet. Soon he was standing on the very rim of the tarn. A hand reached out to stop him.

"Hey, watch out what you're doing! One misstep and you're right in there." The head belonging to the hand nodded towards the turbulent pool.

Arthur Penderel stared down at the hand then up to the face within a hood, pulled tight around a thin face to keep out the rain. He pulled his arm out of the man's grasp. "Leave me be!" he demanded, though he did take one step back. "Who are you?"

The young man stared at the new arrival who, it had to be said, looked very unhappy to be here. "I'm Rhys Wilson... and you?" he asked with a friendly grin, though he had a good idea who he was addressing. He'd seen the guy's pictures in one of the quarterly journals Camelot issued to its work force, not to mention the odd gossip column in the tabloids.

"Arthur Penderel." The answer came back sharply and was almost torn away by the rising gale. "I'm supposed to meet you and deal with the problem you've discovered," Arthur shouted to make himself heard above the screeching wind.

"Well, unless you're better than King Canute I'm not sure what you can do," Merlin answered, a cheeky grin spreading across his features for which he received a dirty glance.

"And this is the trouble? The water boiling like that?" He pointed at the large pond as the effect spread until the whole surface seemed to blister and bubble. "Isn't it just this hellish weather?" But even as Arthur spoke, he already knew this wasn't the reason.

"No!" Wilson too raised his voice. "The weather might be dire, but that's coming from beneath the surface, probably bubbling up from beneath the rock bed."

"Is it volcanic?" Arthur drew on everything he'd learned on the subject of geophysics, which wasn't much.

"Not for millions of years... and not exactly in this spot. A bit further north and west."

Arthur shrugged inside his ill-fitting rain jacket, feeling water trickle from his hair to run down his back. "Have you any ideas what's happening... and why it has anything to do with Camelot Industries?"

The younger man considered his answer for a moment or two before replying. "Not at the moment. Isn't that what we're here to find out." Rhys looked up at the sky. "Not sure there's much we can do in this rain, and I'm going to need quite a lot of equipment, which is what I thought you'd provide."

"Hey, I just got here. Yesterday I was in Monte Carlo with no idea this was happening." Arthur tried to ruffle his hair which was plastered to his skull due to the damp, but gave up on the attempt to make any running repairs. "Talk to me, and if you can convince me this is our responsibility, I'll see you have everything you need."

Suddenly, not only the water was affected. With a rumbling which came from deep underground, the muddy earth moved. Arthur, who was standing nearest to the edge of the bank, had no time to react as a large amount of soil fell away into the water, taking him with it. He slipped sideways, cracking his head on a protruding rock and disappeared below the heaving water.

For moments, the other members of the group froze, all except Rhys who'd made an unsuccessful grab for his employer. But he wasn't about to give up. Shouting to the people behind him to be ready to fish them out, he stripped off his rain gear and dove into the lochan.

Knowing there was little chance of actually seeing Arthur in such dark, turbulent water, he spread his limbs around as far as possible as he swam underwater, remembering a time in Arthur's first life when he'd narrowly missed saving his prince and friend: the time Sophia Tiamor of the Sidhe had enchanted the prince and tried to drown him in her bid to cross through The Gates of Avalon. He couldn't lose Arthur so soon in this life!

His search became more frantic and he reached out with his senses as well as his arms and was thankful when his left hand connected with a solid object. Instinctively, he grabbed a handful of cloth, relieved to feel an actual arm within his grip. Pulling the inert body into his arms, he kicked his legs and headed upwards, following the flow of the bubbles. When he broke the surface of the water, he was happy to see he was close to the edge and a number of people were waiting to help him and an unconscious Penderel ashore.

As Merlin stood, he handed his boss over to his work colleagues, clawing his own way to the path which now seemed to be quite steady and still. The tremor had lasted only a few moments yet it had potentially created a huge emergency... the loss of Arthur Penderel.

Someone handed him a couple of handkerchiefs that were the only items available to dry himself with, which was pretty pointless anyway because the rain was still pouring down. He began to shiver and Will, another member of the team, threw his discarded jacket over his shoulders, but Rhys hardly noticed. He was too intent on watching the first-aider attempting to empty Arthur's lungs of water. They all stared, transfixed. There was no doubt in each of their minds that Benedict Penderel would be incandescent with rage if his son actually drowned in a tiny loch on a small and undistinguished island in Scotland.

But just as abruptly, Arthur was coughing up the contents of his lungs... and some of his stomach. The woman who'd administered first aid placed him into the recovery position, before standing back to allow Rhys to crouch by the prone man's side.

"Arthur?" Rhys said, quietly but with some urgency. There was no reply. Perhaps he was suffering from shock. He would certainly be suffering from hypothermia if they didn't get him somewhere warm. Rhys turned back to the others, who were really under his control. "Will, run to the nearest house and let them know what's happened here. We need to know how to get Mr Penderel off the island in an emergency and to a hospital. He hit his head when he fell. He might have a concussion... besides inhaling quite a lot of water." Rhys bit at his lip, once more searching Arthur's so familiar face for signs of consciousness.

"Arthur! Come on, prat," he said so low no one else would hear and was rewarded when Arthur rolled onto his back, coughing again while drops of water sprayed out of his mouth. His eyes blinked open but were unfocussed, which wasn't surprising since he'd almost drowned.

From his position on the ground, Arthur saw a face hanging over him, close... but not threateningly close, he felt. In fact, the smile on the face was somewhat familiar... comforting. He was wet, very wet and cold but so was the idiot, from the looks of it.

Plus, Arthur had a pounding headache. He tried to sit up only to find he had little strength, so he lay still, staring at his companion. Finally, his voice seemed to work again.

"Merlin, what the hell just happened?"

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Thankfully, Arthur had seemed cognizant enough to understand Merlin's desperate expression as he told his employer that his name was Rhys... Rhys Wilson, a geologist working for Camelot Industries and had lain quietly on the ground waiting for a quad-bike with a flat trailer which had appeared, driven by one of the locals.

It had taken little time for the injured man to be loaded on-board and escorted to one of the nearest and largest houses on the island where Rhys had stripped him of his wet clothes and he'd been put to bed. The elderly lady who owned the house told them that the flying ambulance had been called and Mr Penderel would be taken to Oban General Hospital for a full check up. Emergency aircraft were given special dispensation to land.

While there were others present, Arthur had remained almost in a state of unconsciousness, but the moment the door closed and he was left alone with Merlin, he sat up, only to find that wasn't quite as easy as he expected. His head swum dizzyingly and he had to fight the sensation of nausea.

"How are you feeling?" Rhys asked, almost afraid to talk. Could Arthur really have remembered his old life so quickly?

"Like I've almost been drowned... and did I bang my head or something, because I have a raging headache?" Arthur finally managed to push himself up on the pillow, but he let his head fall back and pressed a hand to his skull. "Mind you, maybe the headache comes from realising I've been here before. Not here, exactly, but I'm sure you know what I mean," he finished, his hand leaving his head and waving generally around the room.

"I'm not sure I do know what you're talking about," Rhys said evasively, approaching the bed. He'd been waiting centuries for his friend to return, but now it all seemed too easy. Surely Arthur would be more doubting of reincarnation. After all, they hadn't had much time to consider the process when he'd been dying. The two of them had spent most of their time on the journey to Avalon discussing the fact Merlin had magic. Would Arthur remember he had magic?

"Merlin, don't pretend to be stupid! We're talking about The Once and Future King. I remember you mentioned that a few times back in Camelot, though I never knew quite what it meant then."

"Well, as far as I know, you're not a king, so I guess it's irrelevant," Rhys stated, sitting in a chair and leafing through a magazine about things to do in Argyll & Bute.

Arthur leaned over and knocked the publication out of Merlin's hands. "Merlin, I really do have a headache and I can't remember ever being so cold in my life, so stop pretending you've never met me before when you know very well we spent ten years of our lives together in Camelot over a thousand years ago."

"One thousand four hundred and seventy one to be precise..."

"What?" For the first time since he'd wakened up after his accident Arthur looked confused.

"Years! We met one thousand..."

"Right! I didn't realize you were counting."

The increasingly loud sounds of rotor-blades turning cut into their conversation and there was a knock at the door followed by the lady home-owner entering the room. She had a kind face as she regarded her unusual visitors with some anxiety and introduced herself as Fiona MacDougall.

"The air-ambulance is about to land. They'll be here shortly to take you to hospital... and it's a pity they've come so soon since I've just made you both a cup of hot tea," she went on with an apologetic smile, looking strangely unhappy that she would lose her guests quite so quickly.

"Thank you, Mrs MacDougall," Arthur answered with a smile of his own. His head might be aching and he was dealing with the almost unbelievable fact that he was reunited with his best friend from the dark ages, but a Penderel never forgot to be polite to a lady, particularly one who had offered him such hospitality. "And I'd really love that tea, if it's not too much trouble. I'm sure we have time to drink it before they arrive."

"I'm sure you will," she complied, blushing slightly at the handsome young man who was occupying her spare bedroom, if only for a short time. She left the room and was back in a trice with two large mugs of steaming liquid. "I don't know if you take sugar, but I thought after your ducking, you could probably do with a shot of energy. Don't tell the doctors but there's a little shot of something else in there too... for medicinal purposes only, of course."

There was a knock at the outside door, and Fiona disappeared again to see if the medics had arrived.

"I'm not sure you should be drinking that if it has whisky in it... not when you might have a concussion," Merlin said wisely.

"Merlin, shut up and drink up," Arthur replied after taking a sip. "It's delicious and it's warming me up."

Merlin did as he was told, then sat up suddenly. "And don't call me Merlin. In this life, I'm Rhys Wilson. Keep calling me Merlin and the doctors will think you're suffering from hallucinations from that knock on the head!"

"Ah, so it is true."

"Yes, but we can't talk about it now."

There was a noise from the hallway and very soon the sounds of conversation preceded the medics arrival.

"Later," Arthur hissed while handing Merlin his mug and sliding down the bed again, as the men in green uniforms came and stood by his side.

"We hear you two decided to go swimming in the quarry," said the first man, cheerily, while setting his case on the chair Rhys had vacated. "Not a good idea in this weather. I'm surprised you didn't drown."

"He fell in... and I jumped into save him," Merlin said, unwilling to take the blame for the untimely dip.

"Right. I'm Joe and this is Davy," the medic said with a friendly grin and pointed to his partner. "That means we have to take both of you in for a check up. We'll just run a few tests first before we get you loaded on the helicopter. Davy, can you go and arrange for a stretcher."

"I don't think you need the stretcher," Arthur announced, sitting up and swinging his legs off the bed. "I'm pretty sure I can walk."

"Not so fast, Mr Penderel."

Rhys watched Joe push Arthur back on the bed and was prepared for a truculent outburst from his boss. However, he was surprised when Arthur subsided without an objection.

"You're with the exploration team at the quarry, I hear," Joe continued in his hearty manner. "Now, I don't know a thing about what you lot are doing there, but I wouldn't presume to tell you how to do your job, so you just lie there and let me do mine. Mrs MacDougall tells me you were unconscious when you were brought in, so that means we use the stretcher. Head wounds can be very tricky, though the results don't always show up immediately."

Seeing Arthur nod to the medic without any objections astounded Rhys. Either, this Arthur had changed, or he really was hurt. He certainly grimaced in pain as Joe began his checks. The medical team were thorough and competent and very shortly, Arthur was being loaded into the 'copter on the stretcher, with an oxygen mask over his mouth and as Rhys went to follow him, he was surprised by a hand touching his shoulder to hold him back. He turned to see Mrs MacDougall regarding him pointedly but with a great deal of warmth.

"Don't worry about him. He'll be fine... but both of you come back here. Oh, I know you'll be back at the quarry, but I mean come back to visit me," she whispered, leaning toward his ear. "I understand everything!"

And as Merlin climbed inside and the door shut, he glanced out the window to see Will and all his team, standing drenched in the rain, watching their departure. A little to the left, separate from the group, Fiona MacDougall stood, grey-peppered hair tied back in a plait, her eyes twinkling as she smiled enigmatically.

Merlin's mouth dropped open for there could be no mistake... Fiona MacDougall was none other than Alice!

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	2. Chapter 2 Another Friendship

**Author's notes: Thank you so much for commenting and following my new story. I was so happy to find that you had remembered me. I hope you enjoy this next chapter.**

**I don't own Merlin, but have borrowed the characters to tell this story.**

Chapter Two

Another Friendship

Rhys paced nervously back and forth in the reception area of the hospital, clutching his ruined clothes in a plastic bag. He had been given second-hand clothes to wear, and more importantly, a clean bill of health by the Accident and Emergency staff, which was quite surprising for someone of his advanced years. He shrugged and put it down to magic... though magic wasn't recognised in this day and age, unless it was the kind practised in cabaret acts and on TV shows, and that was only tricks and slight of hand... not magic at all. In fact, Merlin didn't know if there was anyone else who had true magic in the world today. Whenever he ventured from his home base he'd searched with his senses, but still had found no signs of either light or dark magic. Surely, he couldn't be the last of his kind?

Now he knew how Kilgarrah and Aithusa had felt... how Aithusa still felt, living out the end of her life skulking around Loch Ness. In fact, she hadn't been sighted for a number of years and he really ought to check on how she was faring. He was sure she was still alive though. Wouldn't he feel her loss if she'd passed away?

The truth was that until quite recently he had put aside his Emrys persona and tried to live a quiet, unobtrusive life, shunning the company of others as best he could. There were just so many times a person could make a life for himself only to see the people he cared about grow old and die. Year by year, century by century he'd retreated inside himself till he was little more than a recluse, living near Glastonbury Tor where once he'd sent King Arthur over the lake of Avalon to rest on the Isle. Hell, in these last years, the lake had become little more than a bog. Or it had been! The waters were rising again... not exactly like the lake of ancient times, but more than a soggy pond.

Kilgarrah had told him Arthur would rise again, but as time passed by, he'd begun to doubt the dragon's words. In Albion's greatest need, he'd said. Merlin considered all the terrible catastrophes he'd witnessed in his lifetime. In the last century alone there'd been two World Wars which might have been regarded as great needs, yet never once had he sensed even the tiniest ripple in his magical aura.

Not until lately.

He couldn't exactly pinpoint when it had begun. It seemed as if there were changes coming to the world... as if the world was somehow off kilter. But it had happened gradually, or perhaps not. Scientists had been predicting global warming for decades, but multi-national businesses and many governments had chosen to ignore the warnings that human endeavour was in part responsible for the phenomenon. The sceptics spoke of how the climate of the world had changed naturally a number of times since the Earth had formed and these current predictions were purely scare tactics. Yet no one could deny that disasters created by extreme weather were occurring around the world on a more frequent basis and with increasing violence.

Merlin hadn't listened to the arguments from either side; he knew magic was woven into the very fabric of the earth, was in all living things and that magic was definitely out of balance. Life and the very world itself was in danger.

For the first time in many years, Merlin had bestirred himself to take action. Sometime ago he'd begun to plan his re-emergence into the twenty-first century and in a position where he could influence and protect his world. And where better to do that than at Camelot Industries, because the one thing that had given him hope, despite the fear, was the knowledge stirring deep within his being that he wouldn't be working alone.

Arthur would rise again.

Merlin just hadn't expected it all to be so simple. Arthur had fallen into the deep tarn, knocking himself out on the way, causing Merlin to rescue him as he had so long ago. In their old life, the prince hadn't remembered much of what led up to his almost drowning, though being enchanted by a Sidhe might have played a part in his loss of memory.

It had taken Merlin completely by surprise when Arthur had regained consciousness with the knowledge of who he was, who he had been... and exactly who Rhys Wilson was.

Now Merlin... no Rhys, he really had to stay in character, was anxious to talk to Arthur to find out how much the royal idiot did recall. He was also fairly concerned about his friend's state of health, though Arthur had survived worse injuries in the past. If Merlin had learned nothing else in those years he'd spent with The King of Camelot, he certainly knew the clotpole had a very hard head.

He was shaken from his reflections by the doors to A&E sliding open and Arthur emerging, carrying a similar bag to the one he'd been given, and with a rather careworn doctor in tow.

"Mr Penderel, you have a mild concussion and you inhaled water into your lungs. We strongly advise that you spend at least twenty-four hours in our care."

"But my lungs are clear now?" The doctor nodded and Arthur continued. "And I've had concussion before, so I know what to look out for. Besides, I won't be alone. My friend Rhys knows quite a lot about first aid. So you don't have to worry about me."

"I strongly recommend..."

Arthur gave the doctor one of his wide grins. "I promise Rhys will bring me back if my condition deteriorates. Won't you, Merlin?" As the doctor's eyebrows raised, Arthur laughed. "I call him Merlin... A joke! You know, King Arthur and Merlin? He hates it!"

"Well, if you're staying locally?" the doctor conceded, though clearly against his better judgement.

"My PA should be here shortly and I'm sure she'll have already made the reservations."

Arthur was shepherding Rhys to the exit, but the emergency doctor wasn't finished. "All right, but if your headache gets worse, and it probably will, take the paracetamol we've given you. Remember, no aspirin nor ibuprofen and definitely no alcohol. We hope not to see you again," the harassed man added, before turning to Rhys. "However, if there is any increased dizziness or any sign of confusion or unconsciousness get him back here quickly."

"Don't worry, I will," Rhys promised, trying not to grin at Arthur. "You'd be surprised how many times I've had to rescue this prat."

"Mer... Rhys, shut up!" Arthur said imperiously, then shook the doctor's hand. "Thank you for taking care of us. Your staff are very efficient and friendly and I'm grateful for all your help." At that, Arthur smiled and waved to the nurses who had come to see him off, then throwing his arm around his long lost friend's shoulder, he marched him outside. "Merlin, you've a lot of explaining to do, but before that I do hope you have somewhere for us to stay. That guy's right. My head is killing me!"

"I do... have a place to stay... but you're not going to like it," Merlin wrinkled his nose. "It's back in Seil and it's a Bed and Breakfast. Probably not up to your grand standards... and I'm bunking with Will."

"Will? As in Will from Ealdor?" Arthur let out a whoop at Merlin's nod, then his eyes narrowed as he surveyed the younger man, his cheeks flushing slightly red. "Merlin, you're not? You and Will... you're not an... item... are you?"

"No!" Merlin replied flustered and annoyed. "We're just sharing the costs. We're not all on your grand salary. And even if we were, what would it matter?"

Arthur shrugged. "It wouldn't. Good God, no! Like I told you back in Camelot, what a man does in his own time is nothing to do with me. I just wanted to get my head round any changes."

"Right. How about you?"

"Me?" Arthur touched his chest. "No, of course not."

"Sorry! Stupid question really if those celeb mags are anything to go by. You're frequently snapped with any number of blondes... or brunettes." Merlin stuck his hands in his pockets. "What's wrong with redheads?" he asked, airily, straying off course.

"Nothing's wrong with redheads. I just haven't met any I wanted to date. And why are we talking about my taste in women?"

The two men stood in silence for some moments in the car-park, looking around and feeling a bit lost. At least it had stopped raining. Finally Arthur spoke again. "Why are you worrying about the cost of your stay? You work for Camelot. Surely you can claim expenses?"

"True," Merlin admitted, "but I doubt the finance department would be happy to sign off on a five star hotel for me."

"I suppose not," Arthur acknowledged grudgingly, but he quickly brightened up again. "You can leave Will to the B&B and come and stay with me. Mind you, that might prove difficult for the moment, seeing as I don't have any place booked... not that I know off." He gazed around. "Strange, I expected Gwen to be here by now. I'm sure Will or one of your team would have alerted head office to our little accident. Gwen usually homes in on stuff like that..."

Merlin's head swung round. "Gwen? You know Gwen, as in Guinevere?"

"Yes... well, not exactly. In this life she's just Gwen."

"I never read you were married... or engaged."

"I'm not," Arthur said ambiguously and Merlin couldn't fathom if he was pleased or disappointed at that fact. "She's my PA... and my best friend. Though come to think of it, now I know why I always felt so comfortable around her. We were married for four years. Not that she remembers that. Hell, until a few hours ago, I didn't remember that," Arthur garbled on, feeling a nervous knot form in his stomach. How would he react to Gwen when she arrived, having realised the truth?

Merlin seemed to understand Arthur was feeling a trifle shell-shocked. "Will doesn't remember either, so don't go acting as if he does."

"Are we the only ones who know?"

"Not really... No!" Merlin gritted his teeth. "Back on Easdale. Mrs MacDougall is really Alice and she's invited you and I to visit her."

"Alice? Not sure I remem..." Then a light switched on in Arthur's brain. "Gaius' lady friend? Didn't she try to kill my father? But, if I recall, she escaped from our dungeons... probably with the old man's help."

"Very probably," Merlin agreed.

"She used dark magic!" Arthur scowled as the memories came back to him.

"Yes, but she wasn't in control of herself. The Manticore had taken over her mind."

"What's a manticore?" Arthur asked, intrigued despite his obvious tension.

"A nasty looking creature, about the size of a small dog... but with a sort of human face. Though it had a horrible set of teeth and a tail like a scorpion," Merlin reminisced with a shiver, seeing the beast in his mind's eye. "Lived in a box... well not really, the box was just a portal..."

"Merlin! What are you babbling about?" Arthur resisted a strong desire to hit his servant... well, geologist over the head.

"The Manticore. It was a creature of dark magic and it hypnotised poor Alice into poisoning Uther with its venom. Alice wasn't a bad person and I don't think she is now either."

"Do you think she has magic?" Arthur asked as an afterthought.

Merlin shook his head slightly. "I didn't sense it, but then I was too busy worrying about saving your life again, so I didn't really check. Sorry. But I think it's safe to assume that she might. She definitely knew about us."

"Merlin, you didn't save my life all that many times," Arthur said derogatorily. "And you certainly failed to do so that last time."

"I know and I am sorry." Merlin's gaze took on a faraway look. "I am very, very sorry. I never really got over losing you like that."

Arthur saw tears well in his friend's eyes and quickly took hold of Merlin's shoulder comfortingly. "You tried all that you could, Merlin. It wasn't your fault. You should know you can't change destiny. Besides, I'm back now... ready to fight for all that's good in the world." Arthur gave one of those dazzling smiles, which was quickly replaced by a frown. "Merlin, why am I back? According to those books I've read on The Arthurian Legend, I'm supposed to return during Albion's greatest need. So why am I back now?"

"To fight climate change?" Merlin suggested with an apologetic shrug.

"Me?" Arthur's voice almost rose off the scale.

"And me... and possibly Alice... and Gwen, if she ever remembers." At Arthur's shocked look, Merlin made another suggestion. "Perhaps we should get a taxi and find a hotel. There seems to be a rank over there." He pointed to a couple of taxis sitting at the edge of the car park. "You look like you're about to faint, and if that happens, they'll wheel you back in there." Merlin gestured to the glass doors of the hospital behind them.

Arthur stayed quiet for a moment, trying to regain his equilibrium. It wasn't every day you had the responsibility of saving the world dropped on your shoulders... and it wasn't like he was Superman! Thankfully, he was dragged from his state of shock by a sleek car speeding into the hospital grounds and coming to a halt in front of Merlin and himself.

The driver's door opened and a curly-haired, dusky-skinned young woman stepped out, looking daggers at her employer. "I can't leave you alone for a moment without you getting yourself into trouble. I got a message saying you were in hospital in Oban. What have you been up to this time, Arthur?"

"It wasn't my fault!" Arthur said quickly, trying to appease his irate PA. "Would you believe there was this earth... quake?"

Merlin smiled. Gwen might not be Arthur's wife in this life... yet, but she certainly knew how to make Arthur jump. He thought he'd lend his new/old friend a hand. "No, it wasn't. There really was an earthquake. Well more of an earth tremor really and the ground gave way beneath Arthur, then he fell into a flooded quarry... and hit his head."

Gwen came round the car, examining both men, but paying more attention to Arthur. Clearly they were wearing clothes which didn't belong to them. Arthur certainly was. Though he preferred casual clothes, his were always designer labels. These looked as if they'd come out of a charity shop. But he also looked very pale and tired, causing her to take pity on him.

"OK. It sounds strange, but you can tell me all about it later." She opened the car doors. "Right now we should go get you checked into the hotel. You look like you're about to drop." As both men moved towards the car, she asked. "By the way, who's your friend?"

Arthur and Merlin looked at each other, silently expressing the same thought. Gwen didn't remember!

"Gwen, this is Rhys Wilson." Arthur slid into the front passenger seat, throwing the ungainly sack in the back. "Rhys this is Gwen Armour." He watched as they shook hands. "You might want to thank him 'cause he saved my life."

For a second Gwen looked surprised, then she laughed. "Of course he did!" she commented, astounding the two men. She ignored their startled stares and waited till Merlin was inside before getting into the driver's seat and driving off.

"_Did Gwen just remember?" _Merlin asked telepathically without thinking.

Arthur turned in his seat, his eyes boring into Merlin. He groaned, clutching at his head, completely blind-sided.

"Arthur, are you all right?" asked Gwen, her voice edged with worry. "Perhaps you're not ready to leave the hospital."

"No! It's OK Gwen. They warned me I'd have a headache, and this one is a humdinger. Just get me to the hotel," Arthur said, though in his mind he formed a question to Merlin.

"_Can we talk to each other... telepathically?"_

"_You actually heard me?"_

"_Yeah! You asked if Gwen remembered."_

"_Wow! Seems so. Though don't ask me how. I thought it only worked with Druids."_

"_I'm not a Druid!"_

"_True... but it works. Don't look so horrified. This could be fun!"_

Arthur groaned again and buried his face even deeper into his hands. This had been one hell of a day!

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Arthur wasn't sure how long it actually took to drive to the hotel because he fell asleep during the journey. The next thing he knew was Guinevere shaking him awake. No, not Guinevere. This was Gwen!

"How long have I been asleep?" he asked, stifling a yawn.

"Not long. We're at the hotel," Gwen announced with a smile. "I'm sorry it's a little way out of Oban and maybe even further from the research site, but I guessed you'd prefer your comfort... and you've got to admit it does look very nice."

All three looked through the car windows at the building by the loch. Sometime between leaving the hospital and arriving at their destination the rain had stopped and the sun crept from behind the breaking clouds, casting purple shadows on the mountains while the waters seemed to sparkle and dance. The white painted hotel shone clean and welcoming through the surrounding trees.

"Looks better than anything I've ever stayed at," Merlin remarked, getting out of the car.

"_Better than Camelot?" _Arthur raised his eyebrows as he too stumbled onto the drive.

"_It probably has better plumbing!"_

"_Merlin, you have no soul!"_

"Well, I think it looks lovely," Gwen declared, looking around her. "And the view is stunning."

Arthur took a few steps towards the loch shore, his feet crunching on the gravel. "I agree, Gwen. Everything looks much better when the sun is shining. I wonder if they have fishing rights."

"You're an angler?" Merlin couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice.

"Sure. My dad used to take me when I was little down in Devon. Mind you, this seems on a much grander scale. They probably fish for salmon."

Again Merlin looked shocked. Somehow he couldn't imagine Uther taking a young Arthur fishing, but maybe Arthur's father was totally different this time round.

"You should meet my father, Rhys. I think you might like him."

Merlin threw Arthur a questioning look. Had he read his mind?

"_I didn't need to. The look on your face said it all!"_

Their little tête-à-tête was interrupted as a porter came out to ask if they had reservations and if so could he take their luggage indoors.

"We do," Gwen answered, rummaging around in her purse for the confirming email. "The booking is under the name of Penderel and I've booked a suite and a room."

"You have indeed, madame," replied the porter in a lilting accent and beaming broadly. "May I welcome you to The Lochside Hotel and please come inside. The receptionist will see to your needs."

"Thank you." Gwen popped the boot open and walked inside, followed by Arthur and Rhys. "I didn't know I had to book three rooms," she said in an aside to her boss.

"That's OK. I'm sure there'll be room for Mer... Rhys in my suite."

"I don't have any luggage, apart from the clothes that got soaked," Merlin pointed out, still clutching the hospital bag. "I'm going to need something else to wear," he added looking down at himself. "I look like a refugee."

"So do I, now you come to mention it." Arthur hurried to catch up with his PA, which wasn't the best of ideas and he found himself grabbing her arm to steady himself. "Gwen, we have to get these clothes laundered and returned to the hospital and have our own cleaned and pressed." He fingered the shirt he was wearing. "I think we got these courtesy of the Women's Institute. Oh, and arrange for a donation to be made to their social fund... and find out if the hospital is needing any funding for equipment. They were very good."

"I'll see to that, Arthur." Gwen smiled.

Merlin however, wasn't amused. "Still doesn't solve what I'm going to wear."

"The hotel probably supplies toiletries and you can borrow some clothes of mine," Arthur said, looking Merlin up and down. "The height should be OK, though you'll need to borrow a belt." At that, Merlin chuckled, causing Arthur to change to telepathy.

"_Don't you dare say I'm fat again!"_

"I wasn't going to 'cause you're not fat this time," Rhys replied, speaking normally, though he did lower his voice slightly. "Must be all that polo you play!"

"Merlin, be careful," Arthur hissed. "You don't know who's listening."

"Then you better stop calling me Merlin!"

Arthur had the grace to blush. "Sorry! I keep forgetting." He pointed a finger at Merlin. "I know you think I'm some fancy rich boy, but I actually prefer playing football to polo."

"You can't deny being filthy rich and you do play." Merlin grinned. "I saw that article about you in Hello!"

"That was my father's doing. To tell the truth, I think I'm a bit of a disappointment to him."

Merlin was about to ask about the father-son relationship, but Gwen walked over and interrupted. "There, that's all sorted. Rhys, you're in the Kilchurn Suite with Arthur. They tell me there's a sofa bed in the living room, so he won't keep you awake with his snoring."

"I do not snore!"

"How do you know he snores?"

Arthur and Merlin spoke in chorus.

"I stayed over with Arthur during uni sometimes... but not staying over... staying over." It was Gwen's turn to blush. "Just... staying over... not in the same bed or anything." And she flushed even brighter at that, because they had shared a bed once or twice, but only because they'd fallen asleep while studying.

"And you're never going to stay over again if you go around telling lies about me snoring." Having had the final word, Arthur changed the subject. "Now where is this suite?"

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The suite was large and airy with comfortable, though old fashioned furniture, very much suited to the refurbished nineteenth century building. However, it did have every modern appliance from flat screen televisions to wifi, coffee makers and a spa bath.

After looking it over, Arthur announced it would do very nicely and almost immediately went to sample the bath, making use of the pyjamas, terry towelling dressing gown and slippers which were supplied.

"See, Rhys, they've even supplied pjs, so you have nothing to worry about."

"It's too early to get ready for bed. I'm actually hungry." Merlin heard his stomach rumble loudly, causing Gwen to laugh.

"I'm more tired than hungry," Arthur said, stifling another yawn. "Gwen, why don't you get settled into your room, then come back and we can order room service. I think I'm ready for an early night."

Immediately, Gwen was all concern for her boss. "Arthur, you are feeling OK? You don't think we should send for a doctor."

A gentle smile touched Arthur's lips as he watched his Girl Friday. "I'm probably better than I've any right to be. The doctors told me what to expect, and I think I just need to rest." As he walked through to the bathroom, he passed his bedroom. "I've got to say that bed is looking really welcoming."

"A four poster," Merlin guffawed again. "That should make you feel right at home."

But Arthur probably didn't hear as he disappeared into the bathroom, calling over his shoulder. "Rhys, just open my cases and take whatever you want to wear... only don't take my Vivienne Westwood chinos, the black ones. They're off limits."

Gwen smiled encouragingly at Rhys, saying apologetically. "He loves those chinos. Don't look so worried, Rhys. He won't eat you. His bark is worse than his bite. I'll go check out my room, then I'll be back and we'll order dinner. Will that do you?"

"Sure thing. I'll just wait here," Merlin said, sitting on the large sofa which was to be his bed for the night. He didn't feel at ease raking through Arthur's luggage, but he didn't feel very at home in these ill-fitting clothes either. His nose wrinkled... they even smelt a bit musty. What the hell! He'd been given permission, so he might as well take a look at what rich people wore.

Oh, and he really should call Will, only he didn't know what had happened to his mobile. It was probably still back on Easdale. It could even be at the bottom of that pool, as might Arthur's. Perhaps the well-off dollophead had another inside his luggage. Another reason to go searching through his boss's cases.

Merlin strolled into the bedroom to see the pile of baggage on the stand. Why did Arthur need so much luggage for a trip that might only last a few days? Clearly this Arthur didn't understand the concept of travelling light.

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When Arthur finally emerged from the bathroom, he found Merlin absent-mindedly flipping through channels on the large television. The former king was still wearing the complimentary pyjamas and was wrapped in the soft robe though he was now barefoot. His toes curled into the soft pile carpet as he stretched his hands above his head and worked the kinks out of his back.

"You have to try that bath, Merlin. It's really good for aches and pains."

"How about your headache?" Rhys asked still watching the screen.

Arthur's brow wrinkled. "Nah! That's still there, unfortunately."

At last, Rhys looked up. "You should take some paracetamol. They're over on the table," he said pointing at a side-table by the edge of the couch.

"Thanks!" Arthur lifted the paper bag the doctor had supplied him with and fished out the pills, crossing to the fridge to find a bottle of water. He quickly downed two pills. "Has Gwen gone to her room?"

"Yup. Said she'd be back soon." Rhys answered monosyllabic, again concentrating on finding a TV channel which might actually be reporting on what happened on Easdale.

"Right." Arthur sat opposite his erstwhile friend, glancing over his shoulder towards the bedroom. "You know, Merlin, you really are as untidy as ever. When I said borrow some of my clothes, I didn't expect you to rummage around in my luggage like a demented customs officer on the trail of contraband."

"Oh, that. Sorry. I was looking for this." Rhys lifted the smart phone which was lying on the couch by his side. "I left mine on the island somewhere."

"Did you phone Will?"

"Yup. Thought I should let him know what's happening." Merlin squinted at Arthur. "Told him you got discharged, that I was staying here overnight and would be back at the site tomorrow morning, if that's all right with you?"

"Of course. I'll get Gwen to order you a car. I take it yours is still in Seil? And don't say yup again, or I might have to throw something at you." Arthur leaned forward, leaning his elbows on his knees. "What's wrong, Merlin?"

"I wish I knew." Rhys finally laid the remote-control down. "There's not a thing on the news about what's happening in Easdale. There hasn't been, not from the beginning, apart from in the local press. But you're a reportable commodity. I thought you almost drowning might make the main news."

"Perhaps I'm not that important." Arthur shrugged, but he didn't dismiss Merlin's unease. He'd learned from his last life that his warlock's funny feelings shouldn't be ignored. "What do you think is happening on Easdale?"

This time, Rhys shrugged. "You'll think I'm nuts."

"I doubt that. You'll notice I haven't freaked out at learning you're a very old man... I don't think you've ever died... nor that I lived once before, nor remembering that you have magic. Not to mention the telepathy! Given all that, I think you can tell me anything. So come on," Arthur said encouragingly, leaning back in his chair. "Tell me. Before Gwen comes back."

Merlin pushed himself upright and went to look out the window, down to the loch. "It's not just Easdale... or even Scotland or the UK. Something has gone wrong with the world."

"As in global warming?" Arthur asked, showing he wasn't totally unaware.

For a long moment, Rhys stared at the beautiful, peaceful scene outside before he turned to confront Arthur. "It's partly that and it's manifesting itself in extreme weather conditions. And some of that's due to nature which is being exacerbated by human enterprises..."

"But that's not all?" There was no sign of flippancy in Arthur's tone.

Rhys walked back to sit on the sofa, capturing Arthur's intense gaze with his own. "Arthur, did I ever tell you that magic was woven into the very fabric of the earth? It still is, even though no one believes in it these days."

"I don't think we'd time to get around to you explaining magic. Only you telling me that you were born a sorcerer and you used your magic for me."

"Which was true." Rhys nodded and gave a tiny grin. "And no doubt I'll do the same all over again. After all, I've been waiting a very long time for you to return." He moved to the edge of his seat. "Arthur, something or someone is messing with the magic of the world and unless we can fix things, these disastrous situations are only going to get worse."

Arthur let out a bark of laughter. "Boy! That's quite a task. And I thought I was under pressure in Camelot."

There was a knock on the door and Gwen's voice drifted through asking if they were decent.

Arthur rose to open the door, but he heard Merlin's whisper from behind him.

"And remember to call me Rhys! You keep forgetting."

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They ordered room-service in the early evening and their meals were excellent, though Arthur ate very little, and it was clear to Rhys and Gwen that he was tiring fast. By tacit agreement all three kept off the subject of the day's occurrence, the probable... and the more incredible causes.

Since Merlin knew his background was pretty much off limits while he and Arthur were still unsure of Gwen's knowledge of their shared past, he asked them about their current history, how they had met and become friends?

And as he listened to their recollections and their gentle teasing of each other, he realised that here were two people who had become very close over the years; looked out for each other and possibly cared more deeply than either was ready to acknowledge. It gave him a warm feeling inside and a sense of hope, chasing away the dread that had slowly been seeping through his being. Together... and perhaps with some of their other friends, because who knew who else would be reincarnated... they could perhaps triumph over the encroaching threat.

As they sat relaxed at the table finishing their coffees, the setting sun's rays struck the room, bathing it in a warm, restful glow, so Arthur's words surprised both Rhys and Gwen.

"I'll go pull on some clothes and let's take a walk down to the lake." He rose and made his way to the bedroom. "It's such a lovely evening after such a horrible day, I'm sure we could all use some sun."

"I think you'll find they call it a loch in this neck of the woods!" Merlin joked.

"Merlin, do you always have to correct me?" Arthur shouted back edgily, his still nagging headache making him act a bit peevishly.

"Merlin?" came Gwen's quick response. "Who's Merlin."

Arthur appeared in the doorway, having shed his dressing gown and top. "Rhys, of course," he countered quickly. "You know... Arthur and Merlin... hero and side-kick. It's a joke."

"In that case, Merlin's the hero, since he saved you," Gwen said, staring at Arthur's bared chest for a moment before a slight flush coloured her cheeks and she looked away. "And shouldn't Merlin be an old man with white hair and a long beard?"

"And a magic staff, Gwen. Don't forget the staff." Merlin joined in, happy to misdirect Gwen, while he spoke to Arthur's mind.

"_You twat! What did I tell you about calling me Merlin?"_

"_Well it's hard to remember with this fuzzy head." _Arthur smirked foolishly to his PA. "Maybe it's not such a great joke. I just think the nickname suits him. Don't you?"

Merlin stare wide-eyed at his idiot of a king. _"What the hell do you think you're doing?"_

"Since I don't have white hair or a beard, and I'm only twenty-six, no I don't think it suits me, and I don't think you look much like a king either," Rhys said, staring balefully at his boss. "King Arthur, that's a laugh. Wasn't he an honourable warrior?"

"_Ok, you don't have to throw a fit. Clearly Gwen has no idea of our past lives. Oh, and you were right. I'm beginning to like this mind talking thing."_

Out loud, Arthur spoke. "So I'm not 'King Arthur' but I believe you're still my employee!" he teased, his mouth spreading into a wide grin. "Let me just get some clothes on and we can take that walk."

"Arthur, perhaps that's not such a good idea. Shouldn't you be resting?" Gwen couldn't keep the worry from her voice.

Once more, Arthur's smile gentled when he turned to her. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to stress you out, Gwen. But I really think some fresh air might clear my head and help me sleep."

With that he went back into the room to change and very shortly the three friends walked companionably down to the edge of the shimmering loch, finding the setting sun surprisingly warm. Neither Merlin nor Arthur was surprised when Gwen slipped between them and linked her arms through theirs, smiling at them both, her brown eyes shining with affection. She might not remember, but the gesture was all Guinevere.

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**Please let me know what you think. I'm still a little unsure of writing in present time.**


	3. Chapter 3 Turbulent Waters

**Author's notes: Another Friday and another chapter.  
**

**Thank you so much for your comments and as I can't reply to guests' comments, I'll tell you here how much inspiration you give me when you say such nice things.**

**Many of the places mentioned in this story are real and I've visited quite a few. With others, I've done some research in place names and descriptions to make this modern day story seem realistic. I hope I've succeeded in creating a world you can imagine.**

**I don't own Merlin, but I do enjoy borrowing the characters to create a tale.**

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Chapter Three

Turbulent Waters

As Merlin drove to Easdale the next morning, he stifled a yawn, trying to keep his attention on the narrow, twisting road. He hadn't slept very well, but it had nothing to do with sleeping on the sofa bed, which was extremely comfortable; he guessed that was only to be expected from a luxury hotel. It was worry about Arthur which had kept him awake. He'd opened the bedroom door a number of times during the night to check on his friend, but he'd been reassured by the sound of Arthur's steady breathing... and Gwen was right, Arthur did snore.

Actually, Merlin wouldn't have minded if Arthur had wakened because he would've liked to learn more about the Penderel family and the differences between their lives in the sixth century compared to now. For instance, he knew that one of the most important changes was that Arthur's mother Ygrainne was still alive, which, hopefully, meant that Uther... no, that wasn't right. He really had to get these names straight in his head, including his own. He was Rhys, not Merlin! Over the last few years, he'd become accustomed to his new identity and it had only been the idiot calling him Merlin that had got his head in a spin.

However, back to Arthur's family! In this current time, Arthur's father was called Benedict, and Rhys hoped that since Benedict hadn't lost his wife, he might be a more reasonable type of person and not a paranoid tyrant. The passing references Arthur had made about his father suggested his personality might fall somewhere between a ruthless chairman of a multi-national business and a fairly considerate family man. Rhys truly wished that was the case and that Benedict Penderel was no longer magic's enemy, since it was clear that Arthur loved his father as much in this life as he had in ancient times.

Which brought him to Arthur's sister... Anna. Rhys had seen her photographs. Who hadn't? She was one of the UK's top photo-journalists, travelling to many of the world's trouble spots to report in her very talented and unique way. Her art had even won her a few awards. But she was also Morgana! The big question was whether she was also a High Priestess in her current incarnation. Just because Rhys had never sensed anyone's power didn't mean there weren't other magic users out there.

After all, he'd been in the same room with Fiona MacDougall and hadn't known she had magic and he'd only recognised her as Alice when she'd tried to make herself known to him. Granted, he had been somewhat preoccupied, worrying about the prat.

The only thing Rhys knew for certain was that Arthur remembered his past life, as did Fiona, but Gwen didn't seem to have a clue. Did that mean that none of the other members of the Penderel family recalled their lives spent in the original Camelot either?

He and Arthur had to have a long talk and work out some sort of strategy to discover the truth, but before that he had a job to do, finding out what was making the flooded quarries of Easdale bubble like the spa bath at the hotel. Arthur was right about that bath; he'd had fun trying it out last night. In fact, sampling Arthur's life style did have its advantages. He had to admit that the current Arthur treated him much better than the original one ever had.

Rhys couldn't help but laugh as he drove across The Bridge Over The Atlantic, happier than he'd ever thought possible. After all the long years of waiting, he was thrilled to be united with his two best friends, even if one couldn't remember her place in their relationship. Yet, he was almost at his destination and his mood changed abruptly. It was time to get down to business. Find the root of the problem, and the big question wasn't what was happening on Easdale but why!

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When Rhys arrived on the island, he was a little surprised to find that the tarn Arthur had fallen into was today vitreous and black with just the occasional air bubble marring its mirror like surface. It was also abandoned. Yet, having been told by the skipper of the boat that he'd already ferried the rest of the team over, he went in search of them, finding them by a flooded quarry on the other side of the island that seemed to be showing some signs of turbulence.

"Morning, guys," Rhys called, stumping the last few metres up the path towards them. At least, the ground wasn't quite as soggy as the day before.

"Well look who's finally showed up!" Will said, his voice pitched somewhere between hurt and annoyance. "I wasn't sure we'd be graced with the pleasure of your company today. Thought you might be lording it with your new best friend."

"My new best friend, as you call him, happens to be my boss... all our bosses, and I only stayed with him last night because he had concussion, but his PA's with him now. So let's get on with the job we came to do."

Rhys wondered why he'd been a bit economical with the truth. After all, Gwen had been there last night and he could easily have returned to the digs he shared with Will. However, this Arthur was just as commandeering as The King and he'd simply taken it for granted Rhys would stay... no questions asked. Not that Merlin had always obeyed his king's orders, and he wasn't about to start doing that now, only he had wanted to spend time getting to know this Arthur.

But that was something Will would never understand. Perhaps Will had no memory of his first incarnation, but just as then, he hated people in authority. According to Will, there was a line between workers and management which should never be crossed. A line between rich and poor. Though it had to be said, Will wasn't exactly poor this time around. He was Rhys's assistant and Rhys knew Camelot Industries paid him a decent salary. Mind you, when compared with the fortune Arthur had access to, both he and Will fell inadequately short. It was all relative, as Will would say. Yet just as before, Will wasn't a bad person. Rhys could only hope that this current incarnation wouldn't end as badly for him as it had so long ago. In fact, if he could possibly control the situation, Will would stay safe.

A shiver overtook Rhys, which he steadily quelled. It wasn't as if there were gangs of bandits pillaging the country in this day and age! And if there were, the police were perfectly capable of restoring law and order. Rhys pushed these thoughts aside. It was time to get back to work and stop indulging in flights of fancy.

"I take it you've finished up at the other quarry?" he asked, his tone friendly. "I went there first, and it seems relatively calm today."

"Yeah. Not like yesterday," Will answered with a smile, clearly deciding to let his moment of exasperation drop. "We took lots of samples though, then we thought we'd check the rest of these pools. The others are fairly quiet, but this one is showing signs of agitation."

"And you're taking samples here... and what about the others? Even though they're looking fairly normal at the moment, they could be affected soon."

"That's the intention." Will nodded. "But we're going to have to fly the samples to the lab at HQ for testing. Unless you have any other ideas."

Rhys thought for a moment. He supposed Arthur would have the clout to hire space in a laboratory somewhere closer to hand, but perhaps that wasn't wise. These tests were highly confidential. Besides, Camelot's helicopter was still parked on Seil, though it might not have an option but to move today. Perhaps he should call Arthur and ask what he wanted done.

"I'm not sure, Will. The helicopter's still there. We just need permission to use it."

At those words, Will grimaced as his dislike surfaced once again. "I'm sure Penderel will give you permission. After all, you just saved his life."

Uncharacteristically, Rhys bridled. "What did you expect me to do, Will? Let him drown?"

His assistant shrugged, while the rest of the team got on with their jobs, pretending not to listen to this heated exchange. They all knew Will's opinion of upper management. He was their Union representative.

"Hell, Rhys! One less rich, stuck-up guy in the world! Sorry, but I fail to see the downside," Will ground out though his voice dropped lower.

"You don't mean that... and Arthur does work, you know." Actually, Rhys didn't know how much truth there was in that last statement as he'd never had any interaction with this Arthur before, and judging by how many times he appeared in celebrity magazines, there could be no doubt Arthur liked the high life.

But Rhys remembered how much Arthur had fought for his people long ago; how often he was willing to sacrifice his life for the good of Camelot... and there was never any doubt about how much effort Arthur had put in to keep himself in fighting shape. Even the knights used to complain at his training regime. Rhys doubted this Arthur was any different, underneath his playboy lifestyle. "And maybe I should remind you, Will, that he pays your wages."

"Not me personally." There came a voice from behind them and turning in shock, Rhys saw Arthur coming down the track. "I think you'll find that's Camelot Industries. I'm just an employee, too."

"What are you doing here?" Rhys asked, exasperation taking over from surprise. "You've got concussion. You're not supposed to drive!"

"I didn't! I'm not that much of an idiot," Arthur said, looking aggrieved before he turned round to shout and beckon. "Gwen, they're over here. The ferry guy said he thought you'd moved operations." Arthur smiled at the group as he picked his way through the still muddy trail. "And I'm here to work, though that might be a strange concept for some." He directed a speculative glance at Will, who turned and went back to join the others. "What can I do to help... apart from going for another swim?"

"Hopefully that won't be necessary at the moment. Will's taken samples from the pond you fell into, though it's quieter today," Rhys explained. "However, we need specimens from before and after."

Arthur nodded. "That makes sense." He helped Gwen cover the last few feet of ground to reach their side. "We spoke to the locals, and they told us this quarry and the one on the west side of the island are showing signs of disturbance now."

"That's true." And to reinforce Rhys's words, the centre of the tiny lochan gurgled and issued something very like a large burp. Everyone's attention turned to the water. "Stand back!" Rhys shouted just in time as a small jet of water shot into the air.

There was complete silence as everyone held their breaths, until Arthur spoke up. "Don't you need some kind of volcanic action for that to happen?"

"Usually," Rhys replied, shaken to his core as a magic wave hit him then died away. "But like I told you yesterday, there haven't been any active volcanoes in this part of the world for millions of years."

"Then what happened?" Arthur's sense of danger assumed a state of high alert when he noticed Rhys turning pale.

"That's what we're here to find out," Rhys replied, regaining his composure, while telepathically he told Arthur his fears.

"_I think that might have been caused by magic"_

"_Magic?" _It had to be said that Arthur looked sceptical.

"_Yes! And I'm just as shocked as you because I haven't experienced such powerful magic for over a thousand years."_

"Is it possible the volcano has reactivated?" Arthur asked aloud, though he appeared even more incredulous at that idea.

"That's crazy!" Will threw back over his shoulder at his boss. "It's more likely the local press is right and this is caused by your new shale gas extractions sites."

"Does anyone have any evidence to back that claim?" Arthur returned quickly, a mulish set to his lips.

Trying to head off a clash of personalities, Rhys stepped into the breach. "Look, we don't know why this is happening, but let's not get carried away. We should continue taking water samples in all these quarries, whether they are showing signs of activation or not."

"The guys who run the ferry mentioned other slate islands around here which have pools like this," Arthur continued. "Perhaps we should try to get to them all. Take as many samples so we can compare?"

"That's what I intend, but we need transportation to get them back to the lab. The quicker the better," Rhys said, directing a questioning glance at Arthur.

"We can use the helicopter, though I'll have to organise that. The natives aren't going to like it sitting in their car park for any length of time." Arthur backed up a couple of steps. "Come on Gwen, let's leave the boffins to their work. We'll go ask permission for the helicopter to fly in and out of here. I'm assuming you'll also need to book time in the laboratory?" At Rhys's nod, Arthur smiled. "Good. I can do that. Oh, and Rhys, if you need a closer look at the bottom of these pools, I'm a pretty good scuba diver."

Gwen blanched. "Who is also recovering from a concussion. You can't go diving in your condition. In fact, you should be back at the hotel resting."

"Don't worry, Gwen. I don't plan on donning a wetsuit right this minute." Arthur put his arm around his PA's shoulder and pointed her in the direction of the village square and the pier. "We can handle the red tape from back at the hotel and you can fuss over me all you want." At the last minute he turned round. "Rhys, we'll see you back at the hotel later!"

The two walked off down the track, leaving Rhys somewhat astounded, yet not upset. He and Arthur really did have to have a heart-to-heart talk.

"See! I knew you were getting all friendly with the rich twit." Will sneered. "The B&B isn't good enough for you now."

"Shut up, Will. It just so happens Arthur and I have a lot to discuss. If it is the fracking sites that are creating these disturbances then that's a big deal for Camelot. It's not like they're on the actual doorstep. Now we need to finish our sample taking, and if we've other islands to visit, then we better get a move on."

Rhys passed Will, bumping his shoulder as his assistant was standing in his way. "And Will, you don't have to like Arthur, though he's not as bad as you think, but just remember who pays your wages."

"Maybe not for much longer," Will said airily to Rhys's back.

Rhys swung round, regarding his friend with some apprehension. Merlin had known Will in this current life since his magic awareness had told him, some years back, to get into this line of work. They'd met up in college, though Will had never been Merlin's equal and had actually dropped out after his second year. Though it was obvious Will had no knowledge of their past relationship, Rhys had enjoyed the company of an old friend. When Merlin got his current job with Camelot Industries he'd immediately hired Will as his laboratory technician, but that relationship had been soured somewhat by Will's bolshie attitude.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Rhys demanded.

Will grinned rather mysteriously. "That's for me to know and you to find out!" And with that he clammed up and continued working as Rhys had told him.

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Rhys had to admit that the house looked a lot more inviting in the sunshine and, to be honest, his mind had been concentrated solely on Arthur when they'd brought him here yesterday, soaking wet and unconscious.

He stood back and gazed at the gleaming façade. Every house on the island was painted a uniform white and he loved how they sparkled in the sunlight... and perhaps during winter, white might brighten a damp and dreary day.

The lace curtain twitching caught his attention, prompting him to go through the gate and up the path to the door, which opened to him before he knocked.

"Come away in, Merlin," Alice said invitingly, holding the door as he walked inside. His eyes taking a moment to adjust to the darker hallway. "I hope you don't mind me calling you Merlin, but you and I are old friends... though you might not see me that way since I was practising dark magic when we met. I'm so ashamed to admit that and I hope you'll forgive me, for Gaius' sake if for no other reason."

Merlin's glance sharpened at Gaius' name and he couldn't hide the eagerness in his voice as he asked, "Have you met him in this life time?"

"Please, come inside and we'll talk." Alice led him into her old family kitchen at the back of the house where the afternoon sun bathed the room with gentle hues. "Can I make you some tea... or coffee? All you young people seem to drink coffee these days."

"I'm not exactly a young person, as I'm sure you know. But I'd be grateful if you'd answer my question. Is Gaius back?"

"Not that I know of. I'm sorry, Merlin. I miss him too and I wish I could tell you otherwise, but apart from yourself and Arthur, I've never met anyone from that past life. Though I've seen all the Penderel family at some time or another in the newspapers; enough to know they're The Pendragons. Now sit yourself down and I'll make us a pot of tea, then we can have a nice little chat."

Rhys sat in a large chintz chair by the fireplace which thankfully wasn't set since the room was warm, while Alice... or should that be Fiona... bustled about the kitchen making tea.

"What should I call you?" he asked the elderly lady, stretching out his legs. He'd been working hard since he'd arrived this morning on the island. "Fiona or Alice?"

She kept on working, but Rhys could hear the laugh in her voice. "I think it's best if we stick to our current names, now we've established who we really are. Though I have to admit it was nice to be called Alice again. But now I'm getting older and my brain isn't so sharp as it was, I think it's best I don't confuse our old lives with our new ones. Mind you, you've never really had another life. Have you?" At that she turned to face him. "You are Emrys."

"I don't suppose you'd believe I don't know what you mean?" Rhys asked, attempting a little prevarication.

Alice stepped closer, but stopped by the table. "Rhys, you know the answer to that. Would it help if I assured you I wasn't your enemy? I wasn't even a bad person back in the Camelot days. I let myself be beguiled by the Manticore, and it was so wrong of me. I never meant to hurt Gaius and yet I did. You must hate me for that... but I've spent this life trying to atone for my sins. I practise homoeopathy and crystal healing and I think I've helped a number of people. Would you believe I even have a website?" Fiona chuckled at that. "A helpful neighbour set it up for me."

"I'm guessing you use a little magic on the quiet too?" Rhys asked with a smile of his own.

The sound of the kettle boiling distracted Fiona and for a few moments she concentrated on making tea. When she finally poured Rhys a mug of the steaming liquid, she spoke sadly. "No one believes in magic anymore, so my patients don't mind if I incant a few strange words over them. I tell them it's a herbalist's prayer from ancient folklore and as long as they go away feeling better, they don't ask too many questions. Mind you, some of the locals think I'm some kind of white witch... but mostly they think I'm a harmless old lady who practices alternative medicine."

Fiona sat in a rocking chair on the other side of the fireplace and set her own cup and saucer on a table by her side. "That's herbal tea." She pointed at Rhys's mug. "Don't ask what's in it because an old woman has to keep some secrets, but it will help with your aches and pains. I'm sure you knocked yourself up a bit jumping in to save Arthur and I know you've been working hard since you got here."

Rhys sipped his tea. "It's good. Refreshing, but warming at the same time." Then he too placed his tea down and leaned forward. "Fiona, do you know what's happening here?"

"You mean the water turbulence? It's strange. For years these pools have been as calm as polished mirrors. Well not in bad weather, but there's an obvious reason for that. Over the past few weeks though, they've been bubbling up from beneath, sometimes acting like boiling cauldrons." She sat back and set her rocking chair in motion, staring at the empty fire, then she shook herself out of her trance. "I wish you'd brought Arthur with you. He wasn't hurt badly, was he?"

"No. He has a concussion and a few bruises," Rhys assured the clearly worried old lady. "He did come here earlier, but he was looking a bit shaky, so Gwen took him back to the hotel to rest. Don't worry, I've seen him survive far worse injuries. Mind you, that was over a thousand years ago, but I think this reincarnated Arthur takes his fitness just as seriously as he did then."

"I knew he'd be fine... and I'm sure he does. It's uncanny how he still has this presence, even if he's not a king this time." Fiona gave a tiny smile, remembering the young man who'd been carried into her house, pale and in pain, yet still very polite. "I would have liked to meet him again, but I suspect you've done most of your sampling here."

"As a matter of fact, you'll probably get that chance. We might have finished taking water samples from here, and the rest of the team are doing the other islands as we speak. We've been told all the quarry sites have been experiencing the same activity."

"They have," Fiona concurred, and her usually serene expression turned dark. "Though probably not to the same degree. I'm not sure those water samples will tell you the whole truth though."

"Which is why Arthur wants to explore some more underwater. He tells me he's got some experience of scuba-diving, though I suspect most of what he's done has been in The Caribbean or some other exotic and warm part of the world."

"I'm not sure he'll find anything there either, but it's probably best to rule out every normal cause." Now Fiona was looking very distressed.

Rhys stood up and crossed to her side where he knelt. "Alice, what is it that you're not telling me?"

She turned and stared into his eyes. "I sense something, Merlin. Something I haven't felt since my last life in Camelot. But since the disturbances began it's been there... in the background." Fiona took Merlin's hand and held on tightly. "Sorcery! I feel it. A dark and powerful magic... and I'm afraid that, once again, your Arthur is in great danger."

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**Well, that's this week's offering. I hope you enjoyed getting to know a little more about Alice from Camelot days. And what might Will be up to? You'll have to keep reading if you want to find out... as there's a lot happening before we get back to Will, though he's minor character in this story.**

**If you have the time and inclination to review, I'd love to hear from you.**


	4. Chapter 4 Possessed

**Author's Notes: I do hope you've been enjoying this story so far and the interaction between the modern Arthur and immortal Merlin/Rhys. I know a few of you enjoyed meeting Gwen.**

**This chapter is a little different. It's time to introduce the villains, so I hope you won't be too disappointed.**

**Once again, I'd like to say a big thank you to the readers who are now following this story and have chosen to favourite it. But the biggest thanks go to the people who are leaving reviews. I honestly can't say how much it means to know that you think my efforts are worth reviewing. You give me inspiration to continue writing... and sometimes I do need that.**

**I don't own Merlin, but enjoy writing about the characters and inventing a few of my own.**

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Chapter Four

Possessed

Mark Cornwallis had always had delusions of grandeur. He liked to think he could trace his family tree back to the days when Cornwall had its own kings, and he often had flights of fancy where he imagined himself in that position of power.

Of course, over the centuries his ancestors had lost both their riches and their position, and it had only been with a little begrudged help from a more influential relative that he'd managed to gain a position, lowly though it was, in an investment bank. At first, he'd believed that the powers that be would be dazzled by his brilliance; that he would use his sharp mind and financial expertise to make a killing on the stock-market and be promoted quickly through the ranks. However, he'd joined just before the financial crisis in 2008 and been caught in the midst of the troubles. He'd been lucky to keep his job never mind gain a promotion. Since then he'd been overlooked for any advancement, leaving him feeling very frustrated and bitter.

No doubt he would have remained so, if not for a chance happening a few years ago while he was on holiday in the west country. He'd been exploring in Somerset and Devon and while checking out some ancient historic sites, he'd had a very strange accident. He'd fallen into what he thought was a sink hole.

Down and down he'd crashed, feeling terrified but had been extremely relieved when he'd found himself at the bottom, suffering from no more than a few bruises. However, his fear soon returned as he realised his predicament. The sides of the hole were steep and crumbly and didn't afford many hand holds. Besides, he wasn't the most adventurous or sportsmanlike person, so doubted he could climb out and he'd walked a fair way off the beaten track. He suspected there wouldn't be many people passing by to hear his cries either.

What was he thinking of? He could use his mobile phone to call for help! Quickly, he felt inside his pockets, but to no avail. With mounting horror, he rechecked every pocket in his jacket and trousers, but no phone appeared. Could he have left the guest house without it? No, he remembered putting it in the back pocket of his slacks, but when he rummaged again, he felt a jagged tear in the material of his trousers. Craning his neck around, he could see the whole pocket had been torn away.

For a few moments, he panicked again, but hurriedly told himself to calm down. The phone had obviously fallen out, so it followed that it had to here in the hole with him, He just had to find it. Taking a few deep breaths he began his search, which wasn't easy since the sun's rays didn't reach the bottom of this stupid pit.

He used his hands to feel around and was shocked when he brought a fall of earth down on himself. Scrambling back, his heart racing, he started to panic again. Was this going to be the end to his so far unremarkable, boring life? He doubted anyone would come looking for him any time soon. He was the type of person who liked to keep himself to himself and he hadn't told the people back at the B&B where he was going. How long would it take for them to realise he was missing?

Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to start shouting for help, so he did just that. Mark screamed until his throat grew raw and he could hardly utter more than a squeak, but clearly there was no one near enough to hear. He really ought to start searching for his phone again, even though he risked another earth fall. He forced himself to move, but with great care, so he was totally shocked when more soil gave way, leaving a gap which looked like it led to another tunnel. Should he explore? He'd never heard of any mining taking place in these parts, but then he wasn't a serious historian, only ever being interested in his own ancestry.

The sky above had been slowly darkening with thick grey clouds and at that moment he felt rain fall heavily on his head. Could this day get any worse? Unfortunately it could, as runnels of raindrops coalesced and threatened to destabilise the sides of the hole. Without another thought, he scurried into the shaft, forcing himself onwards, afraid that at any second he could be buried under a landslide. This was a mistake... this was little more than a burrow. He should go back, but a rumbling from behind told him that was no longer an option. The only way was onward. Fearing for his life, he squeezed his body through the narrow opening.

Just as claustrophobia threatened to choke him, he suddenly broke through into a much wider space. Into a tunnel which was surprisingly different. Here there was no loose earth. The walls looked somewhat smooth, like they'd been hewed out of the rock by man. He walked on, able now to stand upright, the subway carrying him further beneath the earth. Yet, he hadn't wandered far when an eerie glow lightened the darkness and he heard a weird sound, almost as if someone was whispering in his ear.

Mark wasn't a very brave man, but he did have a healthy regard for his continuing existence and he obeyed the strange certainty that the way to his survival lay ahead. He rounded a bend in the passage and his mouth dropped open while his eyes stared in shock.

He was dreaming! He'd hit his head when he fell and he was now hallucinating. That was the only explanation for what he saw before him. He'd entered a large cave filled with treasure. Piles of jewels and gold, ornamental and in coin! Slowly he moved into the cave, bemused by the sights around him and entranced by the weird whispering voice.

"_Mark! I need your help, Mark! If you do as I say, I can make you richer than you could ever dream of."_

Had he really heard those words, or was it just inside his head? Yet he was drawn forward, unable to resist the call of riches, until he stood at the side of an ancient tomb. It couldn't be anything else because a carved figure lay on top of a stone coffin. But where was he and who was it that was buried here so far beneath the earth? A burial place hidden so well that it had never been discovered before.

Someone very wealthy, his logical mind told him as he gazed at the huge heart-shaped sapphire on the effigy's breast. He reached out a hand to pick up the magnificent jewel, but the gem was stuck fast. Mark looked around him and found a rusty but handy chisel shaped tool at his feet. Without thought, his brain filled with greed, he prised the jewel free, lifting it reverently in his hand. The glow increased and an incandescent gas swirled around his head.

"_Thank you, Mark. You have set me free!"_

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The colleagues and superiors of Mark Cornwallis would never know the reasons behind his metamorphosis from a reliable, but dull member of staff at Wearing and Hope Investments to a highly charged and innovative financial analyst, who had subsequently risen to the top of his profession. If anyone had stopped to take note, they would've realised that the gentleman who'd gone on a walking holiday in England's south west wasn't quite the same as the person who'd returned, but most people put it down to him being a very late bloomer.

At first, he'd been happy with his promotions, but soon he'd felt frustrated by his seniors' lack of vision. Didn't they know he was better than each one of them? Soon he was using his position to look for a business venture which would give him more scope for his talents. He'd found it too. In the beginning, he'd been content to work from the inside to increase the worth of his fledgling empire, but that couldn't continue. Eventually, his machinations would be discovered, and as they were neither ethical nor legal, the new and improved Mark had to move onwards and upwards to greater things.

Leaving the banking world behind him, he'd taken his experience and assumed command of his pet project. He'd bought up, or, more precisely, had inveigled his way into a little known energy company at a time when the then government was encouraging smaller companies to throw their hats into the ring to increase market choice. With Mark's guidance and financial backing the company had begun to challenge the main providers of fuel and energy in the UK and Europe. Soon the renamed Sigan Fuels would rank alongside the biggest multi-nationals in the industry.

Mark Cornwallis would in the very near future be able to challenge Camelot Industries and Cornelius Sigan, the ancient sorcerer who'd helped build the citadel, would finally gain his revenge on the arrogant Pendragons. Sigan had learned his lesson from his last reincarnation. He'd been too hasty then. Subjugated his vessel completely instead of using his talents, and disclosed his own presence far too soon.

Wasn't there a saying... revenge is a dish best served cold? He would allow his alter-ego Mark Cornwallis to challenge Camelot; after all, he was a warrior more suited to the battlefields of this day and age. Only when the mighty Pendragons were destroyed emotionally and financially would he emerge in his true form and conquer the world.

Deep within Mark's psyche, Cornelius Sigan laughed in anticipation..

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Mark Cornwallis stepped out of his limousine, smoothed down the jacket of his evening suit and checked the cuffs of his crisp white shirt, making sure that his gold cuff-links, set with perfectly matched dark emeralds, were barely visible beneath the sleeve of his jacket; one didn't want to be too obvious. Yet he couldn't help but smile, wondering if anyone at the banquet tonight would have any notion of their antiquity, these being part of the treasure he'd discovered by accident in an ancient tomb.

That find had changed his life and not just because he now had access to untold riches, but because he'd become the person he'd always believed himself to be... a highly successful entrepreneur. Suddenly, his brain had become sharper; he'd spotted opportunities, concluded deals which had always alluded him and now he was accepted by his peers. People who had used to despise him now took note of what he had to say. In fact, they often deferred to his superiority, which gave him great satisfaction.

He felt that fulfilment swell his chest as he made his way inside The Mansion House, joining a line of guests heading toward the banqueting hall for the Lord Mayor of London's June dinner. Here and there he spotted a contemporary or a business contact, whom he saw fit to acknowledge, yet he was lonely, regardless of his wealth and success. For all his prosperity, he still found it difficult to make friends; always felt awkward in the company of women, and it galled him that he should retain these feelings of inadequacy. Surely this was the fault of others. People might admire his position and ever growing power, but they didn't seem to want to befriend him. Mark put it down to envy.

There was laughter from ahead where a number of people clustered around a tall middle-aged gentleman and his lovely partner. The surge of jealousy that choked Mark almost made him turn back. Yet he'd as much right to be here as the target of his antipathy. So, perhaps he'd found his wealth instead of working for it like Benedict Penderel, though Penderel had been born into a very rich family. And even if the man had taken his wealth and increased it a hundred fold until he appeared in the top echelons of the richest people in the world, hadn't Mark been just as wily to use the treasure he'd found to advance his position without anyone ever knowing just where it had come from? That hadn't been easy, because legally he'd been bound to report his find, yet by taking a little, bit by bit, he'd managed to use it for his own purposes.

Mark had no idea why he felt so sure, but he knew his secret vault was safe and always would be. He also had no idea why he disliked the Penderels so much. It was true they were everything he himself wanted to be, but that didn't explain the feelings of loathing and deep-rooted hatred, nor his determination to rob them of their power and see them lose everything they cared for. If he didn't know any better, Mark could swear they'd been enemies in a former life... which was totally crazy. Yet why did a shiver run down his spine, or a whispering voice laugh inside his head?

Lately, Mark had been plagued with strange dreams, had found himself in places he could swear he'd never visited, had done things which he'd never believed possible. Was he going mad? Well, if he was, it was a madness he approved of for wasn't it giving him all he'd ever wished for. Mark's star was in the ascendency and if that meant the Penderels would fall, then so much the better.

So intent was Mark in watching the group in front of him, he didn't see the woman who came to his side.

"Like bees around a honey-pot," the blond woman said, her lilting voice pitched somewhere between awe and disapproval. "Everyone wants to bask in the shadow of the Penderels."

"Bah! I don't see why they should," Mark declared without looking at the woman. "What have they got that the rest of us haven't... apart from money?"

"Quite a lot of money," the stranger laughed, throaty and somewhat dangerously. "Though I suspect it's more than that. They do have a certain charisma."

At last, Mark turned to his new acquaintance, though his mind was still focussed on his rival. "I'm sorry, I fail to see it. All I see is an overbearing couple who think they're a cut above the rest of us," he ground out angrily.

The lady leaned in closer. "You shouldn't speak such thoughts aloud; that's almost sacrilegious. And don't go scowling at me either, because I happen to agree with you. The Penderels have never been friends of mine." The last was said with a hint of mystery.

Mark stepped back to study the woman and was surprised to find her exceedingly beautiful. From her carefully coiffured blond curls, high cheekbones and smiling mouth to her stylish silk gown and silver sandals, she was the epitome of a woman of fashion. The type of female who usually gave him a wide berth.

He found himself smiling back and straightening his shoulders... almost preening. "Nor of mine."

"Do you know them well?" she asked, coming closer, practically intruding on his personal space, but for the first time in his memory, he didn't feel uncomfortable.

"Not really. I've met those two on very few occasions, though I know their son slightly better. Our paths have crossed a number of times since we're in the same business."

"I've also had dealings with Arthur, though I doubt under similar circumstances. I take it from the tone of your voice that you're not a fan of the golden boy either?"

"Arrogant prat!" Mark said more loudly than he'd intended and a few of the guests closest to them glanced curiously at the couple. He lowered his voice. "Let's just say that he's spoiled a number of my endeavours."

The woman slipped her arm through his and walked him away from the others. "As he has mine. This might not be the time or place to discuss it, but we might be able to help each other take a little revenge."

The tone of her voice left Mark in no doubt she was a woman scorned, but he didn't care. He was just glad to have found an ally. However, he wanted to make sure she understood that he was the dominant partner in their efforts to take Arthur down a peg or two... and she certainly didn't have to know about his long term plans for all the Penderels. "So the little prince turned you down?"

"Once or twice!" Her eyes flashed as she spoke, and Mark could swear they turned gold.

"The boy must be an idiot to resist such a stunning woman as yourself," he said, infusing his voice with as much gallantry as he could muster. He really would have to learn how to woo a lady, as this strange woman enthralled him. Perhaps they had more in common than a need to be avenged on Arthur Penderel. With that in mind, he set out to turn on the charm. It shouldn't be too difficult. Other men seemed to do it quite naturally. Perhaps all he'd been lacking in the past was the proper incentive. He forced warmth into his smile and said confidingly. "Here we are agreeing to little plots, and yet I don't even know your name."

She returned his smile, her perfect white teeth gleaming like the crystals in the chandeliers above them. "Hello. I'm Eloise Blessed." She put out her hand, elegantly yet purposefully. This was a woman who knew what she wanted.

"And I'm Mark... Mark Cornwallis." He took her hand and found himself very uncharacteristically bowing over it. "I'm very glad to know you."

She accepted his old-fashioned bow with a gracious nod of her head while her laugh pealed out, echoing like a bell in the arched ceiling of the room and attracting some attention. She turned and stared imperiously at those regarding them, until they looked away. Satisfied, Eloise gave all her attention back to Mark. "You can't know how glad I am to meet you too, Mark. I believe we have much in common and I'm looking forward to getting to know you."

But at that point, Mark looked crestfallen. "Well, I'm pretty certain we'll have to renew our friendship at another time and place, since I doubt we'll be seated together. Perhaps we could exchange phone numbers?"

"We most certainly can," Eloise agreed, but she sent him a conspiratorial smirk and Mark was almost certain her eyes flashed golden again. Could it be a reflection of the light off the gilded columns? "Who knows, perhaps the gods will be kind to us."

And it was the strangest of coincidences, because when they finally took their seats, they found themselves next to each other. Mark shivered again. How weird it was that out of all the many people attending the dinner, they had found each other? For a brief moment, Mark felt fear, then something awoke in his heart and he heard the voice again.

"_Eloise's purpose marches with our own. Relax and enjoy the gift the Triple Goddess has bestowed upon you. Our journey to vengeance has already begun."_

Mark did as he was bid, smiling and bending his head to listen to his new acquaintance's conversation. There was no doubt he was pleased... very pleased. Both he and whoever dwelt inside him.

Meanwhile, at their exalted position at the top table, Benedict and Ygraine Penderel were completely unaware of the toxic pact which had been forged in the hall tonight. Nor were they yet aware of their son's accident, nor his witnessing the raging waters of Easdale first hand... and they had only the smallest notion of the troubles which were about to be laid at their door.

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**That's the chapter for this week. Please let me know what you think of the villains I've chosen. One is fairly obvious, but I did want to bring in someone who isn't written about too often. I hope you approve of how I've managed to do that. I look forward to your reviews.**

**I promise much more of Merlin and Arthur in the chapters to come. **


	5. Chapter 5 False Trails

**Author's notes: Friday once more, and this chapter is devoted to Merlin and Arthur again and their investigations into the cause of the troubled waters of Easdale.**

**I was really delighted to see so many positive reviews on my choice of villains, and that you didn't mind me writing a chapter without the appearance of our heroes. I can promise that won't happen again soon.**

**Thank you all very much for your continued support. You really make my day, or my week!**

**I don't own Merlin, but I do hope you enjoy my take on the characters in modern times.**

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Chapter Five

False Trails

The day after his sojourn in Scotland, Arthur arrived at Camelot's headquarters in Cardiff at a much earlier hour than normal. Throughout the whole country, the spring rain had given way to early summer and the sun promised to burn off the few remaining clouds as the morning wore on. The glass-fronted building, the corporate home of Camelot Industries, sparkled in the sun's rays and made a halo of his golden hair as he passed through the automated doors. With a nod of salutation, he handed his car keys to the night guards at the desk, the receptionists not yet having taken over their duties, and asked them to park his car in his assigned space.

Then, humming slightly off tune, a song from an old musical he'd heard - something about a beautiful morning - he rode the elevator up to the top floor and marched smartly down the corridor to his corner office. On his way, he glanced into the still darkened antechamber to the CEO's grand council room, as he liked to call his father's suite of offices. The old man's only concession to his middle years was that he no longer showed up at the office till after 9am, meaning that Katherine, his father's long-term secretary, could also enjoy a civilised start time.

But there were a few dedicated staff members in the general office as he walked past, shouting a broad good morning to all. Most answered his greeting but looked slightly startled by his early arrival.

Gwen, however, was neither missing nor taken aback. "Good morning, Arthur," she said, her smile as bright as the morning sun. "The report isn't in yet... and your coffee is on your desk."

"Hello to you, too! Isn't it a beautiful morning?" He returned her smile as he entered his office, crossing to his desk to lay his briefcase down and pick up his coffee. "Do you have radar or something that you know when to pour my coffee? I'm not usually in this early."

Gwen followed him inside. "Neither am I, but I was sure you'd be anxious to find out the results of Rhys's tests... and since we have floor to ceiling windows, it's not difficult to see you coming across the square."

He grinned. "That's why I chose the corner office. You can practically spot anyone's approach from all directions, which means I can make myself scarce if it's someone I don't want to talk to."

"You think I don't know that!" Gwen said laughing, her look warm and knowing.

Arthur's lips thinned in mock disapproval. "Sometimes I think you know me far too well. We're almost like an old marr...ied cou... ple," Arthur's words hung in the air, his tease lodging like a stone in his throat.

He really had to be more careful. Gwen didn't know of their past lives and he had to stop treating her as if they were in love with each other. Though he had to admit that was becoming more difficult by the day. The time they'd spent together in Scotland had been a revelation to Arthur and it hadn't taken him long to realise he loved Gwen... and not just because of his total recall.

They hadn't neglected the work they'd had to do to back up Rhys while he was testing on the islands, but they'd been alone during the days and had found time to go for walks along the loch side and through the woods where wild rhododendrons rioted in shades of pale pinks, soft lavenders and deep purples; colours which reminded him of his Queen Guinevere.

As the weather smiled kindly on them, they'd basked in the sun while speculating on reasons for the turbulent waters, but mostly they'd talked of their respective childhoods before they'd met, or laughed over their time at university together. They'd even discussed their current positions in Camelot Industries where circumstance had driven a certain reserve between them. The latter reminded Arthur of their early lives in Camelot when his father decreed that a prince and serving girl could never share a life... though, to be honest, his father would have no objections in this present age. It had soon come to Arthur that no matter the circumstances, he would fall in love with Gwen in every incarnation.

A long pregnant silence was broken by Gwen. "Arthur Penderel, you're not the marrying kind! Think how many girls' hearts you'd break if you settled down." She laughed, yet blushed under his stare, before changing the subject. "How are you feeling today? Still got your headache?"

"No! Woke up feeling absolutely fine this morning. Ready to get down to work as soon as we get the Easdale results from Rhys." He ducked his head as he rounded his desk and sat back in his chair, instructing his voice-activated, state-of-the art tablet to start up. The last thing he wanted to do was discomfit Gwen.

However, the awkward moment was interrupted by the appearance of the very person Arthur was expecting... though not actually in person in Cardiff.

"Hello!" Rhys said, sticking his head around the door. "Is it OK to come in?"

"Sure!" Arthur replied. "Though why you're asking, I've no idea. Don't you normally just march right in?"

Rhys Wilson moved to the centre of the room, the look he directed at Arthur a strange mixture of embarrassment and warning. "I don't think I've ever been in here before. In fact, I've never been exalted enough to visit the top floor. Isn't it just for executives and their staff?"

"Get used to it, Rhys. Until further notice, you're working specifically under my instructions," Arthur said, giving a very good impression of his previous life as a king. "Though, I have to say, I didn't really expect you to bring your report in person."

"I've also sent it to your tablet... but I felt I should be here to explain the results."

"Right. Take a seat." Arthur concentrated on his computer, checking his mail, but as he noticed Gwen attempt to leave, he beckoned her back. "Gwen, you should stay. You've been part of this since the beginning, so you might as well hear Rhys's findings."

Having opened the specific email, which had to be said was very short and to the point, Arthur downloaded the attachment and began reading. The file seemed to contain nothing but a long list of chemicals, most of which were unfamiliar to him.

"OK, Rhys, what am I looking at?" Arthur sat back, his eyes narrowing as he gazed at his employee across the desk. "I take it these chemicals were found in the waters you tested? I recognise some of them," he added, glancing back at the screen, "but there appears to be quite a cocktail there."

"There is," Rhys agreed leaning forward. "You'll find pretty much the same list if you googled the chemicals used in fracking. And a lot of them have common uses... like in anti-freeze or detergent... which is why you probably recognise them."

Gwen had wandered round to read over Arthur's shoulder. After a moment, she asked, "Are you implying that fracking is the cause of the turbulence in the waters around Easdale?"

Arthur looked up at Gwen, then directed his steel-blue stare at Rhys. "But surely this accusation was discounted a few years ago. Besides, our nearest shale gas site is somewhere north of Glasgow... some strange name to do with a bear or something."

Rhys nodded. "Bearsden, to be exact."

"That's it! But that's got to be quite a distance from Easdale," Arthur said, calling up a map of western Scotland on his tablet.

"About a hundred and five miles by road." Rhys forestalled Arthur's action. "Almost fifty-seven as the crow flies."

Arthur rested his chin on his fist, one of his elbows propped on the desk, and stared into the middle of nowhere, causing Merlin a pang of nostalgia. Unconsciously, this Arthur had so many of his old friend's traits.

Finally, Arthur spoke up, his mind focussing. "If there were to be any negative effects from the extraction, shouldn't it be in an area closer to the site? And, if my memory serves me well, we've been fracking there for a few years. Why has it taken so long for these events to occur?"

"Perhaps it's just taken this long for the damage to accumulate?" Gwen answered, trying to be helpful.

"Perhaps," Rhys agreed, nodding again. "It is possible... but unlikely."

"Rhys, we're not the only company using fracking." Arthur sat upright. "Nor are we the only ones employing this drilling method. Has there been reports of any disturbances anywhere else?"

"I thought you might ask, so I did check," Rhys replied with a tiny grin. "Apart from the usual claims from the eco-protesters, no one has reported anything of the magnitude we saw on those islands... and even there, there were differing degrees of water pollution and distortion. Plus, the only earth tremor happened when you turned up, or the only one which was noticed. Some of these islands are uninhabited, so we can't be totally sure.

Arthur stood up. "Are you saying I caused it? Because that's ridiculous... I don't have mag..." He threw Gwen a troubled look, but, thankfully, she was distracted, leaning over and typing, somewhat awkwardly, on his keyboard. Arthur finished his sentence lamely. "I don't have that sort of power."

"_No you don't, but someone might."_

"_Then you're seriously considering this might be caused by sorcery?"_

"_Arthur, I warned you I'd felt a dark presence and that feeling hasn't gone away. To be honest, the tests results came out exactly the way I expected, but it's how those chemicals got there that I don't understand yet. I doubt it has anything to do with Camelot's Bearsden site."_

"Rhys is right. Except for some very early complaints, which were disregarded, there's absolutely nothing on the Internet about earth tremors or water bubbling up anywhere except at the ones we visited," Gwen announced. "Though the green-police and conspiracy theorists are having a field-day damning Camelot Industries for destabilising the earth."

"Hell! They would!" Arthur growled, starting to pace. "But why us? We're not the only company extracting shale gas!"

"No, but we are the richest and the largest," Gwen sympathised. "People always attack the most well known adversary."

"I don't want to be anyone's adversary. Aren't we managing to keep the lights on? I'm sure they'd have a different opinion if they couldn't watch their favourite TV shows, or boil their kettles or heat their homes... and that's not counting driving their cars and flying off on their summer holidays."

"Arthur, you'll always get people who'll attack you just for being who you are... and the genuine green supporters aren't interested in gadgets," Rhys said. Actually, not that long ago, he hadn't been interested in technology either. When he'd retired from the world, he'd tried to live as simply as possible, turning his back on all things modern. However, when he'd first become aware of the looming threat and later discovered that Arthur had returned, he'd made a conscious choice to use whatever it took to safeguard his friend... and the modern Albion he assumed the Once and Future King had returned to save.

"I'm not so certain of that, Rhys," Gwen announced, still tapping away at Arthur's keyboard, though now sitting comfortably in his seat. "They might decry power and energy companies, but they seem perfectly happy to use the Internet to get their offending messages across. There are lots of message boards, blogs and live journals on the subject and it appears quite a number of people post on them all. Look at this. There's this woman called Morgause who shows up often, and she seems particularly virulent against fracking for shale gas and Camelot Industries in particular."

"_Morgause?" _Arthur's head came up. _"Merlin, that can't be coincidence, can it?"_

"_It could be! Arthur, we can't go jumping to conclusions. It's probably just a nickname someone's picked up from the legends. We've no idea who this person really is. She might not even be a woman."_

Arthur gave Rhys another disgruntled look while joining his PA at his desk. "Gwen, does she have an avatar or anything that could give us a clue to her true identity?"

"Not that I can tell, but then I'm no expert, though if you do want to find out I'm sure there's someone in our IT department who could help track her down."

"Good idea, Gwen. Look into that for me." As Gwen vacated his chair, Arthur sat down again, brushing against her shoulder and trying to suppress the warm feeling that ran through him at her touch. He cleared his throat. "It might be as Rhys says and it's just a coincidence, but I'd like to know if those posters are just letting off steam or are definite enemies."

"Enemies?" Gwen's dark eyebrows rose, astounded. "Arthur, surely you don't think we could be dealing with eco-terrorists?"

"Who knows? Maybe they're rivals using the anonymity of the Internet to make life uncomfortable for us," Arthur replied with a shrug. "But I'd like to be prepared... to find out what we're facing. Once those reports get out... and I wouldn't place any bets on them staying private, the media is going to come down on us like a ton of bricks."

"Then I'd better get onto IT fast." Gwen no longer doubted Arthur's assumption. "I'll find someone we can trust." And with that she was gone, leaving the door ajar behind her.

Arthur tipped his chair back and gave Rhys a long stare. "What haven't you told me?"

"Nothing!" Rhys shook his head. "The results are just as you see..."

"How can that be? I know there's a danger of the chemicals leaking from the actual drill pipe, contaminating the earth and water table, which is why our engineers were told to take extra precautions from the get-go." Arthur's anger and worry creased his brow as he rose once more and crossed to look out over the city. "Father made sure we employed only the very best and instructed them to keep a close check for any leaks."

"There haven't been any reported. Not in the Bearsden area, nor at any of the sites north of the border."

"But shouldn't there have been, if those chemicals are showing up as far away as Easdale?" Arthur asked, turning back to Rhys. "I want extensive samples taken immediately."

"Actually, I've already ordered the same tests to be carried out on the water table in all the areas surrounding Camelot's Scottish operations. When I saw those results, I didn't wait." When Arthur only stared at him, Rhys went on. "Perhaps I overstepped the mark and shouldn't have done so..."

"No! No. You did right. That would have been my next instruction. Though I want to take it further. I want every shale gas extraction site in the UK checked." Arthur crossed his arms and grinned at Rhys. "You're pretty good at reading my mind. Just make sure you keep it strictly professional."

"Why? Are you scared I might find out you've fallen for Gwen all over again?" Rhys's smile widened.

"Merlin, I haven't!" Arthur's sharp denial was undermined by the pink glow which tinted his cheeks. Merlin simply stared at him. "What?"

"Deny it all you want... but I know you too well, Arthur. You did exactly the same in Camelot for years."

Crossing to the large leather couch which almost filled one wall, Arthur sank into the cushions like a rag doll which had lost all of its stuffing. "You're right. But at least I stood a chance back then. I've known Gwen for years. Long enough to know she sees me as nothing more than a close friend."

"Close friends can fall in love," Rhys suggested helpfully, sitting in an easy chair opposite Arthur. "I happen to think Gwen cares more than she realises. Maybe if she remembered..."

"No, Merlin." Arthur's lips thinned as he faced his friend. "And you must promise to do nothing to help her remember. I tell you, there's nothing I'd like more than if Gwen could love me... but she must make her own choice." Arthur's gaze dropped to study the carpet and his voice was full of hurt. "You know, looking back, I think Guinevere should have followed her first love and married Lancelot. Then maybe he would've had more to live for and he wouldn't have sacrificed himself for me. Gwen would have been happier... had children..."

"Arthur, don't do this to yourself. Both Lancelot and Gwen made their choices willingly. I know Gwen never regretted marrying you. Her only lament was that she lost you too soon."

"But she was a good queen?" Arthur's blue eyes lifted again, afraid yet eager to hear how his wife had survived without him.

"The best," Rhys smiled, remembering. "She ruled the way she thought you would wish her to. She did bring magic back to Camelot, after she found out I'd confessed to you and you wanted me to be..."

"Always you!" Arthur rested his head back on the leather. "I recall telling you that I didn't want you to change. Did you tell Guinevere you had magic?"

"I didn't have to. She guessed."

Arthur let out a bark of laughter. "Gwen was always more perceptive than I. So you didn't have to hide anymore? I'm glad about that." There was a moment's poignant silence between the two men; Rhys waiting for Arthur to gather his courage to ask more questions. Finally, one came. "Did she marry again?"

"No. She never did, though she had many opportunities. Too many, perhaps, and not all her suitors were pleased to take no for an answer."

The one-time king straightened and stood in one fluid movement, fast as a flick-knife. "Who tried to force her?"

"Arthur, it all happened so long ago, and no one succeeded. Gwen had the full support of the knights and the council... and myself and Gaius. Believe me, she wasn't alone."

There was another moment of silence as Arthur considered Merlin's words. "Thank you for that. So she ruled alone? I wouldn't have minded if she'd fallen in love again with someone worthy of her. Perhaps had children. I've read most of the books written about the legends of King Arthur and I know I was the last of the Pendragon line." Arthur absent-mindedly turned the white gold ring he wore on the small finger of his right hand. "Mind you, since I've got my memories back, most of what I've read doesn't bear much resemblance to the truth. For a start, they've got you down as an old man!" He ended on another laugh, though this one was quieter.

"And some have you living till you're middle-aged." Rhys mused. "It was strange how over the years the truth was lost and people wrote what they wanted to believe... There was one writer got something correct... though I'm not sure I should tell you."

Arthur moved to stand over Rhys. "What? Tell me... everything."

Before talking, Rhys searched Arthur's face, his eyes boring into his friend's very soul. "Gwen did have a child... your child. A boy."

"I had a son?" Now the pain in Arthur's voice was palpable and he leaned his hand on his friend's shoulder, as if he needed support. "There were children in the stories... but they were from me with other women. Now I know that's not true. Guinevere was the only woman I ever loved."

Rhys nodded. "I know. But Guinevere had your son, posthumously. She called him Llacheu, but he died when he was a child." Rhys paused, wondering whether he should continue. Arthur was pale, his lips pulled into a tight line, but he seemed resolute. "I'm sorry, Arthur. There was a terrible illness spread through Camelot... probably something akin to dysentery. Children and the old were most at risk. Gaius did his best... and I was in Ealdor at the time because my mother was dying. By the time I came home, Llacheu was gone. I'm sorry, Arthur. I wish I could have spared Gwen that pain. I don't think she ever truly recovered from his loss... not on top of yours. She died a few years later."

"Oh God! Poor Guinevere." The catch in Arthur's voice was audible and his eyes were awash with tears. He had always wanted a child... a son and heir. How often he'd envisaged watching him grow; playing with him as a toddler, showing him how to ride his first pony, and when the time came, teaching him how to use a sword... how to rule a kingdom... "Damn it all! Why couldn't I have lived?" His grasp on Merlin's shoulder tightened unconsciously till the young man couldn't suppress a groan.

Immediately, Arthur freed Rhys, shame shaking him to his core and driving him back to his seat on the couch. "Rhys, I'm so sorry! You'll probably have a bruise." He pointed at the creased material of Rhys's shirt where his hand had rested.

"Don't worry. I'm tougher than I look," Rhys reaffirmed, remembering the night when he'd lowered his prince on a rope outside his chamber window.

Arthur's eyes took on a faraway look. "And I'm not just sorry for that... I don't blame you for my dying. You tried everything you could to keep me alive. I was the one who couldn't hold on." Once again, Arthur dropped his head into his hands, his anxious fingers threading through his hair.

"Arthur, that was so long ago and we can't change the past... Remember, we made a pact. You're back now... and we have to find out what terrible danger Albion is facing and try to put it right..." Rhys's eyes caught the glint of silver metal amongst the strands of Arthur's blond hair. He veered off the subject as he asked, "Arthur, where did you get that ring?"

"What ring?" Arthur lifted his head and glanced at his fingers, before turning to Rhys with a frown.

"The one on your pinkie. It's white gold with engraved bands encircling it... and I'm guessing it's pretty old."

"It is... but what has a ring got to do with anything?" But as Rhys continued to stare at the piece of jewellery, he chose to explain. "My mother likes browsing through antique shops. I was with her one day, when I saw this and felt drawn to it - I have absolutely no idea why - so she bought it for me. She likes buying us little gifts, one of her endearing qualities," he added with a reflective smile. "The ring's too small really. Probably belonged to a woman."

Arthur's gaze flew to his open door where he could hear Gwen talking on the phone while, in his mind's eye, an image from long ago drifted into being. He saw a picture of a small room lit with a multitude of candles, gleaming softly on Guinevere's tumbled curls, her hand outstretched as he pushed a ring onto her finger.

"Oh, my God! It's Guinevere's wedding ring. Why didn't I recognise that before?"

"Probably because you only got your memory back a few days ago. It's a lot to process," Rhys said with a great deal of sympathy. "Arthur, I know you want to talk about your old life and what happened to all your loved ones after you died. And I'm not saying that we can't do that someday. But right now, I think it's more important to concentrate on the present."

"The reason for those sample results?" Arthur pulled himself together. "I know, Rhys. The legend was that I would return when Albion needed me most, so I guess we better figure out what we're facing and what we have to do to put it right... if that's possible."

"Yes," Rhys agreed but added with concern. "But there's more than that, or it's probably all part of the same thing. We do need to talk about your family. Your father... Morgana?"

"Anna?" Arthur's eyebrows shot up. "Why didn't I think of her? You think she's still a witch in this reincarnation?"

Rhys shrugged his thin shoulders. "I've no idea. I've never met her, so I wouldn't know. And your family is very different this time round," he pointed out with a small smile. "The important change is that your mother is still alive and I'm assuming your father doesn't have a paranoid hatred of magic."

"I doubt he even thinks about it. He certainly doesn't believe in it," Arthur answered, smoothing his ruffled hair. "But they did have problems getting pregnant. I was born through IVF this time... not magic... and my mother had a very difficult birth. She haemorrhaged. She almost died, and though they saved her life she couldn't ever have another child. My mother is the best... and it broke her heart."

"Morgana is adopted?"

"Yes!" Arthur pushed up from the couch and went to stand by the huge window. "As far as I know, this time around she's not related by blood to any of my family." He swung to face Rhys, leaning his back against the glass. "My mother desperately wanted another child, so she persuaded my father that they should adopt a baby. They wanted a new born and, being rich and influential, Benedict Penderel had no doubt they'd find one. However, in the meantime, a fourteen month old baby girl was left orphaned by a car accident. Both her parents and grandmother were killed. She was the only survivor and it seemed she didn't have any other family. The representative from the adoption agency asked my mother if she'd be interested. Of course, my mother's kind heart was touched and she got my father to go with her to visit the toddler. Both of them fell in love with little Anna... we never call her Morgana... and pretty soon she became one of our family. I can barely remember a time when she wasn't with us."

"Do you get along with her?"

"Like most siblings, I suppose. We fight some, we laugh some and we look out for each other." Arthur sounded a little defensive for a second or two before he sighed. "I guess you never had a sister or brother. I'm sorry, Merlin. Your life must've been so lonely. I can't imagine..."

A hint of tears clung to Rhys's eyelashes. Lonely didn't express the despair he'd experienced during some parts of his long life. "You were the only brother I ever had... and I lost you."

At once Arthur was by Merlin's side, his hand resting lightly on the shoulder he'd crushed earlier. "I felt that way, too, and I'm sorry I never told you. You're right. I was a prat and I wouldn't let myself admit how much you meant to me. Not till it was too late." He hooked his hand behind Merlin's neck and shook his friend in a gesture very similar to Camelot days. "But we're back together again. I'm not a prince and you're not a servant; there's no reason why we can't be close friends."

"I do still work for you," Rhys reminded him.

"Merlin! You never let our different status stop you from telling me what to do in the past and I'm pretty sure you won't do now. And the class divide isn't as important as it was back then. Besides, I was the king who married a serving girl... and knighted commoners, which didn't go down well with my father."

"How would it go down with your father this time around?" Rhys asked as the thought occurred to him.

Arthur's lips pouted. "Actually, he's still an arrogant sod who tends to think he's always right, yet he likes Gwen. Every time I introduce him to my latest girlfriend, he keeps asking me why I can't find a nice sensible, intelligent girl like Gwen... and my mother loves her. I'm sure they'd both be thrilled if I were to ask Gwen to marry me. Pity it's only Gwen who wouldn't be happy."

"You don't know that."

"Rhys, don't! Leave Gwen alone. She comes to me of her own accord, or not at all!"

"I've already promised, but I'm sure you're wrong about Gwen's feelings. And don't you think she has a right to know..." But at Arthur's warning frown, Rhys decided to give up trying to matchmake... for now. "OK. Stop giving me that look! One thing, though, it's clear your family has changed, so perhaps Morgana... sorry Anna might not have magic, and even if she did, there's no reason for her to turn to the dark side."

"I hope you're right, Rhys. I'd seriously hate to battle against Anna. She's my sister and I do love her, but don't tell her I said that because she'd wrap me around her little finger."

There was a rich feminine laugh as Gwen came into the room again. "You mean she doesn't do that already?"

Both men turned to her with differing expressions; Arthur's resigned and Rhys's surprised. It seemed to him that Gwen was fairly well acquainted with all of the Penderels even if she wasn't Arthur's girlfriend.

"Well, she does try," Arthur admitted with a grimace. "But I don't always give in!"

"True!" Yet a smile still lingered on Gwen's lips. "Anyway, back to work. I've found someone in IT who is able and willing to help you. He'll come by around lunchtime. His name's Matthew Davidson and I'm told he's a wizard when it comes to technology."

At the word wizard, both men froze and Gwen glanced from one to the other. "Did I say something wrong? I did check our employment records and he appears to be the best but, if you want someone else," she said, pointing back to her office, "I could arrange it. Just let me get back to my source in IT."

"No, Gwen. That won't be necessary," Arthur replied, forcing a laugh. "I'm sure Davidson will be fine."

"Good. I'll get back to work then." She turned to leave, but threw over her shoulder. "Arthur, you haven't forgotten you're invited to dinner at your parents' home this weekend?"

"No, of course not. Anna arrives home Friday. It's a dinner to celebrate her return, which is why you're invited, Gwen. You haven't forgotten, have you?" he returned with a smug smile.

"No! Why would I? I spoke to Anna on Skype last night and she reminded me, as if I needed reminding my best friend is coming home!" With a final smile at her boss, she left, closing the door with a solid click.

Rhys's eyebrows shot up questioningly as he gazed at Arthur. "Yes, Rhys! There's a lot more similarities to our old life than you know. The first time I brought Gwen home from university, she and Anna got on like a house on fire, and nothing's changed to this day. They conspire against me, I swear it! You have no idea how many prospective wives they've thrown in my direction over the years. Now I know why they've never succeeded. If I can't have Gwen, I'm destined to remain a bachelor."

"You said that last time as well, and look how wrong you were."

"So I did!" A faint spark of hope lit Arthur's eyes for a moment till reality set in. He shook himself. "Rhys, stop it. That's only wishful thinking and I won't have you remind Gwen of our past lives. If she remembers by herself then that would be great, but that's the way it has to be." Arthur went back to his desk and picked up Rhys' report. "Now perhaps we can get back to trying to discover why these chemicals are really showing up in those waters," he said, sitting down and waving Rhys to take the chair opposite. "Could someone have deliberately contaminated those pools?"

"For that amount of solution per water quantity, it wouldn't be easy," Rhys said, leaning back in his chair and staring contemplatively at the sky outside. Within moments, he shook his head. "Nah! I mean no one disguised as a visitor could just stroll around all these ponds and drop like... say a couple of two litre water bottles of the stuff into the quarry and even that wouldn't have been enough to show that amount of contamination," he finished, pointing at the list. "Not to mention some of these islands are uninhabited. Getting to them isn't so easy."

"I'm sure anyone with a boat could visit those empty islands after dark and do whatever they wanted. But Easdale is different. The inhabitants are pretty knowledgeable and I'm sure they'd notice anything untoward... Unless utility workmen! They have electricity and phone lines on Easdale. Perhaps whoever did this disguised themselves that way." Arthur was reaching for his intercom as he spoke.

"Wait, Arthur!" Rhys forestalled his boss. "Alice... I mean Fiona... would know something like that. She's a gossipy old lady who probably knows about most everything that goes on there. She gave me her number."

Rhys had the number on speed dial and within seconds a trilling ring could be heard repeating and repeating. The two men had almost given up on being able to contact Fiona at present when her voice soft, but somewhat breathless, came over the line. "Rhys," she stated, using his modern name. "I'm sorry I took so long to answer, but I've been in the garden gathering herbs."

Arthur smirked at Rhys. How often had Merlin used that excuse in Camelot when he was off doing something magical and therefore nefarious?

"Has something happened?" Fiona asked.

"Nothing unexpected, but we got the test results and they suggest Camelot's fracking operations might be involved, but we doubt it."

"I think so too!" Fiona sounded as if a shiver had coursed through her body. "Rhys, I took a walk around the island yesterday and I sensed the presence of darkness."

"The waters are still bubbling?"

"No! They're calm... too calm and black, like the Pool of Nemhain. The hairs at the back of my neck rose up. There is something evil in those waters and I doubt it's only chemicals."

Since Rhys had switched to speaker phone, Arthur joined the conversation. "Fiona, it's Arthur. Rhys has told me all about you, so it's nice to talk with you again... more pleasant than our first meeting," Arthur said, knowing this old lady would interpret his true meaning. "I'd like to thank you for allowing me into your home the other day when I was hurt, and I'm sorry to impose on you further, but we were hoping you could help us."

"Anything you need. Please! Neither of you should be afraid to ask..."

"Fiona, Rhys here again. We were wondering if there have been any workmen on the island lately... you know, electricity or maybe a phone company? Anyone who could smuggle a batch of chemicals onto Easdale to contaminate the water?"

There was a pause as Fiona appeared to think. "No. I'm afraid not. And as I very seldom leave the island for any length of time, I would have noticed. Not only that, in a close community like ours everyone gossips about such things and there's been no mention of work being done."

"Not even anyone having repairs or alterations done on their houses?" Arthur suggested.

"Arthur, we're also a very self-sufficient bunch and everyone tends to help each other out. We seldom need to call in strangers. I'm pretty sure I'd know if any type of workmen had arrived on the island." There was another pause, till Fiona spoke again. "Mind you, there were some visitors... A boat stopped on its way north. Now that isn't all that strange an occurrence, but this one I remember. It happened a month or so ago. The people got off, had a look at the slate quarries, went to the museum, stopped for lunch then sailed away. Most tourists arrive by the ferry, but these must have been rich folks, judging by their yacht. Caused quite a stir amongst the locals at the time."

"I would expect quite a lot of boats berth in Easdale," Rhys mused, putting his mobile on Arthur's desk. "Isn't your part of the world a favourite place amongst Britain's sailing fraternity?"

"The west coast is, but most of them bypass Easdale in favour of some of the bigger islands. Besides, they didn't look like your normal yachting folk."

"Do you know how many people were on-board, or any idea who they were?" Arthur asked, his voice sharp and eager.

"I believe there were four of them... and one was a woman. Very pretty and blonde. Probably a city girl as she didn't look very comfortable wandering around the island in her designer clothes. But apart from that, I have no idea who they were. They didn't stay long. I could ask at the cafe if they have any ideas."

"Thanks, Fiona," Rhys answered. "We'd be grateful for any information you can give us."

"Fiona, we'll probably be back on the island soon." Arthur took over the conversation again. "If we can't find any plausible reason for the chemicals in the water, then I'd like to do some hands on exploration. Do I need permission to go diving in those quarries?"

"I don't think so. Just as long as you're not going to do any damage, I think you're fine."

"Good," Arthur replied quickly but not unkindly. "Thanks for your help. Rhys and I better get back to work... and we'll let you know when we're visiting again."

"You're welcome and I look forward to seeing you both. Oh, and Arthur, bring that pretty assistant of yours. I'd love to meet her too."

Arthur glanced pointedly at Rhys, his eyebrows lifting. Rhys grinned and shrugged.

Fiona's chuckle came over the line. "And don't go blaming Merlin for telling tales. I saw you both when you brought her to the island. Isn't it romantic that you and Guinevere have found each other again... Cheerio for now!"

And before Arthur could form a reply, the connection was cut.

Arthur stared dagger-like at the mobile before saying, "Rhys, you better warn her not to say a thing to Gwen. Like I said, I want her to make her own choices and not be prompted by witches or wizards."

"I'll do my best, but you know what these old witches are like..." Rhys assured, still wearing a puckish grin.

"Actually, I don't. The only ones I knew about back in the day were trying to get me killed and I only learnt about you and good magic two days before I died. This whole helpful thing is a completely new experience."

"I suggest you get used to it pretty quick." Rhys became serious once more. "I get the feeling we're going to experience good and bad sorcery in the near future."

"Sounds like fun!" Arthur laughed, collapsing back in his chair, though there was little mirth in his tone.

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**That's this week's offering. I do hope you appreciated finding out a little more about the old days in Camelot after Arthur's death. Just as I hope you enjoyed hearing about his parents and Anna in the present day. You will meet them all in time.**

**If you have the time and inclination, reviews are very welcome. And I'm keeping my fingers crossed Friday 13****th**** isn't unlucky for me and my story.**


	6. Chapter 6 Revelations and Surprises

**Author's Notes: I swear the weeks get shorter because Friday always comes round so fast, but I do have another chapter for you.**

**Once again, I was thrilled by the response I got to the last chapter. I am so relieved you're liking my take on modern Merlin/Rhys and Arthur and their friends and families. There are still a number of others who will be making an appearance in future chapters.**

**I notice from the reviews that I've picked up a new guest who reviewed chapter 1. I hope you're still sticking with the story and enjoying it.**

**For everyone who has left a review and who is following or favouriting the story, I thank you so very, very much. I'll stop rambling now and let you read on.**

**Oh, but one important fact I have to tell you. I am going on holiday for ten days next week, so I'll be away from home for two Fridays. I will try to post a chapter early next week, so look out for a chapter on Wednesday. I will miss one week though.**

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Chapter Six

Revelations and Surprises

"OK, Rhys, we've established the chemicals might have been deliberately dumped... or they've been created by sorcery, which I still have a hard job accepting, but if it's neither of these reasons do you have any other suggestions?" Arthur asked, ensconced in his desk chair and taking another bite from his sandwich. They had ordered an early lunch in his office so they could continue working.

"There could be an other possibility, but it's almost as unbelievable as magic..." Rhys halted, as he sat on the edge of the sofa and stared out the window to the buildings edging the city's skyline.

"Please, go on," Arthur prompted. "I'm open to any ideas."

Rhys glanced back at Arthur. "You know it could still be some sort of leakage from the Bearsden site."

"Apart from that one," Arthur said, pointing his smoked salmon bagel at Rhys and frowning. "I understand leakages, though that would mean our drill-master wasn't doing his job correctly. Any seepage would show up around the drill site and, according to the call I made to them earlier, they've been making regular checks which have all been clear."

"We don't know the latest results though."

Arthur set his food aside and stood up. "Rhys, even if there was some sort of link between Bearsden and these islands off the coast of Argyll, surely it would've taken some time for that pollution to spread."

"I suppose..."

"Unless you're confirming a myth I heard years ago."

"Which myth?"

"The Loch Ness and Loch Morar monster one," Arthur grinned, slightly mockingly. "Didn't someone propose these deep highland lochs were connected by underground tunnels or something?"

"Right, that one." Rhys leaned back on the couch, putting his hands behind his head. "I suppose I could always ask."

"Ask who?" Arthur spread his hands. "I thought it was only a theory... unless some of your geologist friends have any knowledge..."

"Nah! I wouldn't call her a geologist, though she does know a lot of stuff. If she's still around, of course."

"Stop being mysterious, Merlin, and tell me who you're talking about." Arthur was losing his patience fast.

"Nessie... though technically, that isn't her name..."

Arthur strode over to the couch to tower over Rhys. "You're trying to tell me the Loch Ness Monster is real?"

"Yes. And you knew her in your past life, though you were never really introduced."

"What are you talking about?" Arthur tried and almost succeeded in looking threatening, only it seemed that Rhys wasn't the impressionable type.

"Her name's Aithusa and you knew her as the white dragon."

Arthur looked totally shell-shocked. "Morgana's dragon? The one who attacked us?"

"Ah, but she was never Morgana's dragon. I admit they did have a very close relationship, forged in The Sarrum of Amata's dungeon. However, Morgana isn't a dragonlord, but I am."

Arthur collapsed on the couch, shaking his head. "Of course you are. You stopped the dragon at Camlann. You probably stopped the Great Dragon, too."

"I did. Balinor was my father; his gift passed to me when he died."

"So, I didn't kill the dragon?"

"No. While you were unconscious, I sent Kilgarrah away with orders not to hurt Camelot again."

Giving a side-ways glance at his once and future friend and warlock, Arthur enquired, "Are there anymore secrets you have to tell me?"

There was a moment or two of silence as Rhys reviewed his confessions. "Nothing I can think of for now, though I'm sure we'll come across quite a few others in time. But, Arthur, I do promise to be honest with you in this life. I mean, it's not like your father can have me executed for sorcery this time around."

That statement surprised a bark of laughter from Arthur. "You don't think so? And how do you think he's going to take it when I tell him the leakage is caused by magic? He might not execute us, but he'll have us both committed to the funny farm!"

Rhys lips twitched in acknowledgement, but whatever he might have said was pre-empted by a knock at the door and Gwen entered with a young man trailing in her wake.

"Hi, guys," Gwen said brightly. "This is Matthew Davidson from IT. I could just have sent him in, but he looked a little shy and awkward to be entering the 'throne room', so I thought I'd offer him backup. After all, you don't bite."

Arthur groaned silently at Gwen's choice of words; there were times he wondered whether she really did remember the past and chose not to admit it. And, if that were the case, in Arthur's eyes that meant she didn't want to acknowledge the love they'd shared. In a self-pitying moment when he'd revealed his fears to Rhys, his friend had poured scorn on the notion and reinstated his opinion that Gwen's love for Arthur in the present was as clear as the nose on his face and he was a stupid horse's... backside not to see it!

Yet Arthur's thoughtful meanderings came to an abrupt end at the sight of his previously unknown employee. The chestnut curls might be a cut differently and he might be a few years older, but there could be no mistaking the man who stood before them.

"_Mordred?!" _Arthur heard Rhys's shocked question reverberate inside his head, but was unable to answer for some seconds, having been literally robbed of speech both vocal and telepathic.

"_Arthur!" _Rhys warned, trying to smile at the newcomer. _"Stay focused!" _

With a small smile sent in Rhys' direction, Arthur proved he was as capable at his present job as he had been as king. "Mr Davidson, welcome. I'm Arthur Penderel," he continued, holding out his hand for Mordred... no, Matthew to shake. "And this is my associate Rhys Wilson... actually, he's a geologist working on a particular project for me; a project in which I hope you might also play a part."

"_Sire! What are you doing? You trusted him once before and he betrayed you." _Merlin's worried voice rang in Arthur's ear.

Arthur's smile remained in place as Mordred shook his proffered hand, while he replied directly to his friend's mind. _"That's true, though perhaps this Mordred has no knowledge of magic in this lifetime just like Anna and my father. But don't worry, I'm not about to trust him blindly this time around... and if he is an enemy, I'd rather have him under our eye. If he is evil and thinks we're completely oblivious to his intentions..."_

"_But that's just it. Mordred knew Emrys was immortal. If he has any memories, he'll know I know!"_

"_True, but I doubt he's aware that I know your true identity. I'll pretend I'm as oblivious as I was over a thousand years ago, at least until we find out whether he's trustworthy or not. Now smile and shake his hand!"_

Uncharacteristically, Rhys did as he was told, shaking Matthew's hand and saying hello, while he heard Arthur in his mind again.

"_And don't call me sire! There's no need. I'm not a king and friends are equal!"_

The warlock's smile widened at those words. He understood Arthur meant every one... till Rhys annoyed him, then he could do a very good impression of his royal highness of Camelot. Meanwhile, Matthew was speaking and Rhys decided he needed to keep his wits about him.

"I'd be happy to help in any way I can, Mr Penderel," Matthew stated glancing between the two men, but whether in recognition or simple politeness, neither Rhys nor Arthur could say. "My boss told me you need my computer skills?"

"That's true," Arthur answered, waving Matthew to sit on the couch, while he balanced himself at the opposite end on the wide arm of the sofa. "We need you to find the identity of someone who writes on a number of web sites and message boards under an alias. Whoever it is clearly doesn't approve of Camelot Industries... in fact, that's a bit of an understatement, as you'll see when you read her posts."

"What's she got against Camelot?" Matthew asked, adding quickly, "And what's her nick?"

"Morgause!" Rhys joined the conversation. "And she seems to blame Camelot Industries for exacerbating the planet's extreme weather, in particular the extraction of shale gas."

"She knows her Arthurian Legends then," Matthew said with a frown. "Though Morgause isn't always Arthur's enemy. Sometimes she was his friend and ally and even a relation. It depends on which version you're reading."

Arthur exchanged a glance with Rhys and directed his thoughts to the warlock. _"If he does remember, it seems he's not about to tell us."_

"_Arthur, be careful. Mordred was a Druid which means he can talk telepathically too."_

"_He can overhear us?" _Arthur's eyebrows rose alarmingly, though he quickly assumed a deadpan expression as he spoke aloud. "Well, this one is definitely no friend to Camelot. Can you trace her... or him?"

"Depends how clever she is, but don't worry. No one has ever proved too good for me yet," Matthew announced with a quiet confidence which reminded both Arthur and Merlin of Sir Mordred. The Druid had been a loyal friend to his king and the knights, though he had turned against them in the end.

"I admire your self-assurance," Arthur commented, an edge of doubt audible in his voice, but he forced a smile to his face. "Gwen can fill you in on the details and what we already know about Morgause, which isn't much. Any help you can give us will be much appreciated."

"Don't worry, Mr Penderel," Matthew said with a grin and stuck out his hand again as he got up to leave. "You can rely on me to fill in the blanks."

"Good!" Arthur accepted the second handshake. "But, please, call me Arthur. When anyone calls me Mr Penderel in this building, I expect to see my father looking over my shoulder. But, Matthew, there is one thing... I would appreciate if we kept this research between ourselves. In fact, I'll have HR set up a work station for you in the outer office, that's if you don't mind, Gwen?" he asked, offering his PA an apologetic smile. He'd no idea where the strange feeling came from, but he had the distinct impression that this operation should remain private, at least, among the four of them.

"No. That's fine. The space is far too big for just me..." Gwen agreed, smiling back at Arthur, causing him to reflect that he was lucky to have her in his life, even though she wasn't in love with him. "And if Matthew feels he needs some privacy, perhaps you could have them put up one of those screens."

"That's a good idea!" Arthur said, feeling grateful for his ever smart PA, because there was actually a fair amount of other confidential work which Arthur required Gwen to do. Now that she was going to be sharing an office... even with a partition... they really ought to discuss such matters in the privacy of his room. It seemed every cloud did have a silver lining!

Arthur blushed and moved back behind his desk to cover his embarrassment. Since the day he'd met Rhys, he'd warned him to do nothing which might remind Gwen of her past life in Camelot and here he was manipulating her into spending more time with him. On the other hand, if she were to fall for him of her own accord, then he wasn't going to complain. Hell, he'd feel like he'd won the lottery! Not that he needed to win the lottery... but he was sure it would cause most ordinary people to feel euphoric.

For a moment he wondered how it would be to be poor. In both his lives he'd been born into a position of privilege and prosperity. Was he such an arrogant ass that he'd taken his pampered lives for granted until Merlin had dropped into his orbit from out of the blue, forcing him to take a good look at himself... and not exactly liking what he saw?

Over a millennium ago, Merlin and Gwen had shaped him into the King Arthur who had become a legend. Yet he wasn't exactly the same person in this incarnation as he'd been in Camelot days.

While he did enjoy the good things in life, his mother had been a levelling influence on him, teaching him not to take for granted the prestige his birth had bestowed on him. Till that momentous day on Easdale, when Merlin had fished him out of the tarn, he'd had no inkling of the responsibilities he'd once shouldered as a king; however he was conscious of the duty he owed to his family, his friends and the people who worked for him.

The tabloid media might portray Arthur Penderel as a rich playboy - and he had, on occasion, taken a devilish delight in living up to that reputation - but the truth was that he disliked recognition, preferring to get on with doing the job he was paid for. Nevertheless, he was uncomfortable with the fact that he'd been brought back for some specific reason which remained unknown... and he had no idea if he was even capable of living up to the legend.

A few days ago he'd thought legends were simply fairy tales... but now it seemed he was about to meet another myth. As soon as Gwen and Matthew had left their presence, Rhys decided there was no time like the present to go question Aithusa.

"So we're taking a trip back to Scotland now?" Arthur enquired and as Rhys nodded, he picked up his phone. "Fine. I'll order the jet. We can land at the airport in Inverness and take a hired car from there. Do you actually know where to find her?"

"I might, but she moves around a lot... keeps a low profile... just in case."

Placing his hand over the mouthpiece, Arthur asked, his brows lifting. "In case of what?"

"Arthur, she's a dragon! OK, so people think she's the Loch Ness Monster... and as long as that remains a mystery, she's safe. What do you think would happen to her if it became common knowledge that Nessie was more than a myth?"

"They'd stick her in a zoo and make an exhibit of her... Not such a good idea," Arthur declared, the corner of his lips turning down as he contemplated that fate, but he was distracted when a voice on the other end of the line said hello.

Arthur quickly gave instructions to the pilot of Camelot Industries' private jet to have the aircraft ready for take off as soon as possible and to file a flight plan to Inverness airport. A short conversation followed on who would be joining him on the journey... and, though he wasn't sure when they'd be returning, he didn't imagine the trip would last more than a day. Then, because the guy was a friend who played football alongside Arthur in the firm's charity soccer team, he spent a few minutes chatting before hanging up.

"Right, that's done, but I think we have time for you to meet my father. He'll want to know what we've found out, and you're the expert..."

"We haven't found out anything conclusive," Rhys objected, his pale skin blanching further. "Perhaps you should talk to him yourself."

"Don't be such a girl, Rhys! My father's not a tyrant this time around... well not so much!"

Arthur grinned as he passed Rhys on his way to the door. "Come on!"

Gwen was alone in the outer office as Arthur and Rhys walked through, the PA informing them that all was in order for Matthew's transfer and his desk and IT equipment should be set up by tomorrow morning.

"Great, Gwen. You're a star!" Arthur smiled, then hesitated. "Actually, Gwen, Rhys and I probably won't be here till lunch time. We're flying back up to Scotland this afternoon to do some more research and I doubt we'll be back till very late tonight. I can rely on you to hold down the fort and deal with Matthew, can't I?" At Gwen's nod, he dragged Rhys towards the door, calling over his shoulder. "Thanks! We're on our way to see my father, but we'll stop by to say cheerio and I'll deal with anything you think is urgent before we go."

There had been one crazy second as Gwen smiled up at him that Arthur had been tempted to kiss her. Instead, he'd offered her a dumb wave, slung an arm round Rhys' shoulder and marched him in the direction of his father's lair!

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"Don't look so worried, Rhys. My father has a meeting in the city this afternoon, so he can only spare us a few minutes." Arthur tried to calm his friend as it was clear Rhys was wary of meeting Benedict Penderel who was reputed to be a bit of a martinet with his staff. "Mother called me last night to see how I was feeling and she said father wanted to meet you to thank you for saving my life. Talk about deja vu!"

They'd reached the large outer doors to the offices of the CEO, which Merlin decided looked somewhat reminiscent to the entrance of Camelot's council chambers; only in this current time Penderel's inner office was guarded by a lone middle-aged woman who was dressed rather severely in a grey tailored suit. Yet her stern countenance was as formidable as the medieval sentries with their wicked looking halberds who used to guard the citadel.

However, as Arthur entered, her expression softened into a smile. "Hello, young man," she said, her term of address that of an old and trusted retainer. "I hear you've been getting yourself into trouble again. I'm glad to see you looking so well."

"I fell into a pond, Katrina, and banged my head. It's not like I was in danger of losing my life."

"Well, you gave your parents quite a scare."

"I'm sorry, but I didn't exactly do it on purpose," Arthur explained, looking slightly abashed, before changing the subject. "Is he ready to see us?"

"Mr Penderel is finishing a conference call with your uncle in New York. Then I have to get his signature on a couple of documents." Katrina shuffled some papers into files and stood up. "Just give us a few moments. Your father's anxious to meet your friend and I'd also like to add my thanks to Mr Wilson for keeping you safe."

"Sorry, my manners! My mother would have me strung up. Katrina, I'd like you to meet Rhys... Rhys, Katrina, my father's long suffering secretary."

"Arthur! Your father isn't at all bad to work for and you know it," Katrina objected, though her lips twitched in a grin, softening her expression. "He just likes things to be... well organized, which is why I have to get these papers to him. Excuse me..."

With that she disappeared into her boss's office and Rhys let out a huge sigh. "She's not anything like Lady Catrina, or a troll."

"I knew that's what you were expecting," Arthur chuckled, sitting down in an arm chair and crossing an ankle over his other knee, clearly at ease with waiting around for an audience with his father. "You know, Merlin, perhaps not everyone gets reincarnated."

"True, and out of the people we've discovered so far you're the only one who's remembered our past lives," Rhys pointed out, standing in the centre of the room, still too nervous to sit down.

At that comment, Arthur frowned. "Rhys, you do think Gwen will be safe with Mordred... I mean Matthew? Perhaps I should have found him somewhere else to work."

"Or you could always move Gwen into your office," Rhys suggested with a smirk.

But clearly Arthur was too worried to appreciate the tease. "But I'll be in Scotland... Who's going to protect her till I get back?"

"Arthur, we'll be back sometime tomorrow, and we don't know that she needs protecting. Matthew seems to be a straight up guy! Besides, Mordred liked Gwen... and you, until you condemned Kara to death."

"I haven't killed anyone this time around," Arthur stated firmly with a shiver of dread. Clearly, this Arthur had no experience of actual combat, his competitive spirit only surfacing on the football pitch or polo field. "And we don't even know if there is a Kara. Maybe I should ask him?"

"Why would you do that?" Rhys asked, somewhat surprised at Arthur's audacity. "If this is Mordred, we don't want to jog his memory."

"Don't worry! I'll just have a general... chat..."

But the two men's conversation was interrupted by Katrina exiting Benedict's office and announcing, "Your father will see you now."

Arthur rose, smirking at Rhys who shot him a grimace, balanced somewhere between disapproving and mortal fear, but as Arthur strolled through the double doors, Rhys swallowed hard and followed.

The office was large, which didn't surprise Rhys, but it was more simply decorated than he'd expected. It was also divided between the old and the new. There was a large picture window on one wall behind a huge, heavy wooden desk which Rhys thought might have had its origins in Victorian times. As in Arthur's office, a three piece lounge suite was situated to the left, while a bookshelf covered the side wall, one shelf dedicated to happy family photographs.

On Benedict's desk there was a portrait photo of a blonde woman, who Rhys had once seen in a ruined castle conjured by Morgause, so long ago. The only art piece which adorned the wall was, strangely, a large painting of a stylised dragon that reminded Rhys of Camelot's shield, though wasn't an exact copy.

The other side of the office was devoted to a bank of computer screens which probably linked up to various Camelot organizations throughout the world. Rhys detected the slight sizzle and buzz in the air which always emanated from multiple high-tech appliances, though went unnoticed by normal humans.

Benedict Penderel was seated in a comfortable leather chair at his desk, but he rose ponderously as Arthur and Rhys entered, holding out his hand to his son.

"Come in, Arthur," he instructed with a smile, a smile of sincere pleasure which Rhys had rarely noticed on the face on Uther Pendragon.

The older man's glance shifted to Rhys and the smile slipped, but only a very little. Mr Penderel had had his secretary research this particular employee, as he would any staff member who worked closely with his son. He might be slightly uncomfortable with Rhys Wilson's lowly background... an orphan who'd been brought up by his now deceased grandfather, but he did admire the intelligence and dedication of the same young man who'd earned such distinguished qualifications and kudos in his chosen field.

Of course, Benedict didn't know that the grandfather had actually been Merlin himself, who'd let his body grow old... and not so gracefully... in the ancient cottage near Glastonbury Tor and, who by a combination of magic and a thorough study of technology, had created his latest identity. An identity and past which Rhys sincerely believed was infallible.

But, as Arthur was introducing his father to Rhys, he pulled himself out of his thoughts. Penderel's handshake was firm and his word's friendly as he said, "Welcome to Camelot. Arthur speaks very highly of you, Mr Wilson. Please have a seat... both of you."

Benedict moved to one of the armchairs and Rhys followed Arthur, both sitting on the couch. He couldn't resist a small smile, reminding himself that he'd never been invited to sit in Uther's presence.

"_Stop smirking and concentrate!"_ Rhys almost felt a metaphysical whack across his head.

"_Sorry! I just find this so surreal."_

"_True... but I did warn you my father isn't a carbon copy of Uther."_

Out loud, Arthur continued talking to his father. "I hear you've been talking to Uncle Tristan. How is he?"

"Great! He's excited about his latest exhibition in New York and hoping your mother and I will be attending." Benedict smiled broadly. "As if I could stop your mother from going! Actually, he would like it if you could be there too. It's not often the family can get together, so I'm sure Ygraine would love a reunion."

"I'm pretty busy with all this stuff, Dad, but if you have Mum get in touch with Gwen about the dates and arrangements, I'll try to fit in Uncle Tristan's opening. He knows how to throw a party!"

Father and son shared a laugh, while Rhys whispered in Arthur's mind. _"Tristan, not Aggravaine?"_

"_Aggravaine died when he was a toddler... from meningitis. It was a long time ago and no one speaks about it now."_

"_Sorry!" _And Rhys was sorry. Perhaps this young boy wouldn't have grown up to betray his nephew. Then his eye caught the painting of the dragon. _"Tristan DuBois the artist is your uncle?"_

"_Actually, he's an interior designer who paints for a hobby... at least, that's what he tells us. And it's actually Tristan Woode, but Uncle thought that was too prosaic for an artiste."_ Arthur shot a sideways glance at Rhys, his eyes twinkling with mirth. _"Believe me, this Tristan is nothing like the one who showed up as The Black Knight. Mind you, he might have painted one once." _

Unaware of the telepathic conversation, Benedict cut in. "Good. No doubt your mother will enjoy taking Gwen out to lunch and weaving her plans for us all. She'll probably insist Gwen comes with us to New York... if you don't mind?"

From the gleam in Benedict's eye, Arthur's mother wasn't the only one who was plotting... or should that be matchmaking? Rhys was astounded. The members of this family could not be more different from the people who'd lived so long ago. Yet Arthur seemed pretty much the same.

"Of course I don't mind." Arthur leaned his forearms on his knees, nodding his head in agreement. "She'll like a trip to New York."

From where Rhys sat, he could see the edges of Arthur's ears turning a faint shade of pink and the erstwhile king ordered telepathically. _"Don't you dare laugh, Merlin! I may not want you reminding Guinevere of the past, but that doesn't mean I object to my parents inviting Gwen to spend time with us. There is a difference, you know!"_

"_I understand." Rhys replied, his expression deadpan. "I wouldn't mind a trip to The Big Apple myself. I've never been there... well not since it was New Amsterdamn," he added, his voice full of disappointment. _

Shocked, Arthur couldn't prevent himself from shooting a puzzling look at his friend. _"Your life is so bizarre..." _But he cleared his throat and said out loud. "Perhaps Rhys would like to accompany us, too." And as his father looked rather doubtful, he suggested ingeniously, "That would mean we could continue our research on the problem of the Easdale waters."

"That's a good idea, Arthur," Rhys said, his eyes narrowing in thought. "The US has invested heavily in shale-gas extraction plants. Surely, if fracking is the cause of the phenomenon, then one of these plants might have had similar problems. Mind you, if they have they're definitely keeping quiet about it."

"So a visit might be our best way forward?" Arthur asked, pointing a finger at Rhys.

Benedict Penderel leaned back in his chair as he listened to his son and his geologist toss ideas back and forward. There was no denying the two had forged some sort of working partnership, and he couldn't deny that Camelot Industries needed answers. His fingers absent-mindedly stroked his chin. "Then you both believe there is a definitive connection between the two?"

"Not necessarily," Arthur replied. "Though the early results do show chemicals in the waters at Easdale."

Benedict sighed audibly. "That's not exactly what I wanted to hear. I'm off to London this afternoon to meet with our bankers. I needn't tell you they're growing extremely nervous about the rumours..."

"If it helps, Mr Penderel," Rhys cut in, edging forward eagerly on the couch. "There are anomalies. The water samples we took do show traces of chemicals which are used in the fracking process, but it seems very strange that they don't show up in similar samples which we've extracted from around the actual drilling sites. They never have."

"Surely that's impossible?" the older man said, his brow wrinkling in perplexity.

"Not impossible. There's a slight chance that the leak is so far down that it's not registering in the local area. However, that would suggest that there was some link deep underground between the two places and, I have to say, that scenario seems highly unlikely."

"Have you a way of proving that, Mr Wilson?" Yet at Arthur's dark look, Benedict amended the name... "Rhys?"

"Using the latest technology, we can use geophysical and seismic surveys to find out what's underground, but there are limits to our knowledge," Rhys admitted.

"But Rhys does have a contact, who is - how can I put this? A bit of an enigma. Yet reliable, nevertheless." Arthur nudged Rhys, warning him to stay quiet. "We're actually on our way to Scotland to talk with... this person, but they would rather remain anonymous. You can pacify your banker friends by telling them we're working on the problem and hope to come up with answers soon."

"An answer which might put Camelot Industries in the clear." Rhys chose to assure Benedict Penderel, since he found himself actually liking Arthur's father... so far, and he truly did believe someone was trying to frame the Penderels and their energy company.

"Only, at the present time, we don't have any proof of that," Arthur cut in. "So, Dad, remember to keep whatever you tell them fairly vague. I'm sure you'll think of something!" He stood up, brushing down his tailored slacks. "Come on, Rhys. We've a plane to catch and I promised to check in with Gwen before I left. Plus, I'd like to change into something more comfortable, especially since your friend lives in the country."

And as the two young men marched purposefully out, Arthur turned. "Good luck, Dad. See you at the citadel this weekend. I promised Mother I'd come by for dinner. I presume it's OK if I bring Rhys with me?"

After a pause, Benedict's voice floated after them, sounding only slightly resigned. "It's fine with me and you know how much your mother loves to meet your new friends."

As Rhys walked after Arthur, he shook his head, unable to suppress his surprise.

"_Close your mouth, Rhys! I told you my father was a whole lot nicer this time around."_

"_Yeah. I'm not sure I believed how much, though. He's actually human!"_

"_Hey, that's my father you're talking about! Both Uther Pendragon and Benedict Penderel."_

"_Well, whether you like it or not, I much prefer Benedict."_

Arthur grinned again and judging them to be well out of earshot of any eavesdroppers, he spoke normally. "So do I, Rhys. But don't be fooled; today he was a pussy cat, yet the lion is still in there."

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**That's today's offering. What did you think of Benedict Penderel and are you looking forward to meeting Aithusa... AKA The Loch Ness Monster? I look forward to hearing your thoughts.**

**Btw, if I have missed answering anyone who has reviewed, please accept my apologies. I will get round to replying soon.**


	7. Chapter 7 The Existence of Monsters

**Author's notes: I'm posting early this week, as I'm off for a holiday, or a vacation if you live in North America. I will miss next Friday, but hopefully will have something for you the following week. It all depends if I find time to write while I'm enjoying myself. **

**Once again I have to thank the wonderful readers who left reviews. I hope I've answered you in time this week and for those guests to whom I can't reply in person, please believe I love the fact that you take time to review. You all cheer me up!**

**I hope you enjoy this chapter and meeting a certain monster who lives in and around a certain Loch in Scotland.**

**I don't own Merlin, but I do have fun borrowing the characters.**

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Chapter Seven

The Existence of Monsters

The flight to Inverness had gone smoothly, particularly since Arthur's fears for Gwen's co-existence in the same space with someone who might be Mordred had been totally removed by his mother. By the time Arthur and Rhys had returned to his office, Benedict had already contacted his wife regarding Arthur joining them on their trip to New York with the inclusion of both Gwen and Rhys.

With that in mind, and knowing from her husband that Arthur was due to be away from the office for over twenty-four hours, Ygraine had recruited Gwen to help her arrange the details for their future stay in the US, meaning that his PA was unlikely to be spending much time alone in her office with Matthew.

The two men had picked up a hired car and, after finding their way through the busy Highland city, were now driving down the road which ran alongside one of the most famous and beautiful lochs in Scotland. The deep waters sparkled and rippled in a long expanse on their left, but as far as they could see, only one motor launch and a larger pleasure boat broke the surface, while on their right, the wooded banking rose steeply towards the mountains.

Again the weather seemed to be on their side. The afternoon sun beat down benignly and they were content to be in each other's company, reliving moments of times gone by. There had been so much of...

"Do you remember when..?"

And... "I can't believe we escaped!"

Or... "And that was really you?"

Not to mention... "Did I really fly on a dragon... Kilgarrah, I think you called him?"

Arthur's stark question brought the reminiscing to an end.

"Yeah! You did. I doubt you'll remember though; you weren't awake. I called Kilgarrah after we lost the horses and realized we weren't going to make it in time." Rhys cleared the lump which had lodged in his throat. "I wish I'd done it earlier, but Kilgarrah was very old, and he was ill... dying. I didn't want to burden him... thought we could get there ourselves. I'm sorry, Arthur. So you see, in a way I was to blame for you dying."

"No, Merlin. It seems to me Kilgarrah was also your friend... and he did try to help me, even though my father had kept him captive and killed off all of his kind." Arthur frowned as he spoke and gazed out over the loch. "Neither you nor Kilgarrah were to blame. Mordred struck the fatal blow and he wouldn't have done so if I hadn't alienated him by executing Kara. I recall you tried to warn me about that and I wouldn't listen. I suppose you could say I was complicit in my own death... though Uther certainly carries a lot of the blame, especially where Morgana was concerned." But Arthur shook himself from his despondency, saying with a bit of a grin. "Pity I was unconscious at the time. I think I'd rather enjoy flying on a dragon's back."

Rhys's mouth spread into an answering smile. "It's a bit special. Once you get used to the strange motion, that is. One thing, it certainly beats flying in a plane. Who knows! You might get a chance to try it this time around."

The blond head snapped round and his eyebrows rose. "Aithusa still flies? But wouldn't she risk being seen... and what about radar?"

"Between us, we've managed to create wards which make her nigh on invisible, particularly to high-tech kit. It's why there haven't been any reports of her being seen in these last few years. At least, I'm hoping that's the case and it's not because something is wrong with her. Dragons can live for over a thousand years... but even she's growing old. She's not immortal like me."

Arthur shook his head. "Immortal! I'm sorry, Merlin, but I've a hard job getting my head around that. The things you must have lived through... seen. It's more than I can comprehend, but I'm taking it that it wasn't a walk in the park."

There was a long pause as Rhys brought their car to a standstill behind a row of vehicles, all of which were halted by traffic lights around some fairly substantial road works, but it did give him a chance to think through his answer.

"It wasn't all bad," he said, finally. There was a lot he wasn't prepared to talk about yet. "In fact, exploring the world was a bit of an adventure at first."

"I wouldn't have thought that would be so easy in the dark ages."

"It wasn't, at first, but you forget I had my own form of transport."

Arthur swivelled in his seat, resting his back against the passenger window; he'd been a little annoyed when Rhys had insisted on driving, reminding Arthur he was probably still suffering from concussion. He might have driven his own car in Cardiff, but he knew that route like the back of his hand and it was mostly in a built-up area. Here, the roads were a little more challenging.

"Aithusa?" Arthur didn't wait for an answer. "That was brave. From what I can remember about the white dragon, she looked pretty spindly and frail. I wouldn't have thought her strong enough to carry a full grown man... even one as gangly as you." he smiled to remove the barb from his final words. After all, he now knew Merlin had described himself that way... even if it was in his alter-ego of The Dolma.

Rhys returned the smile, not taking offence, as he slipped the car into gear and drove off slowly, following the string of traffic. "Yes, Aithusa! Though the dragon you're going to meet doesn't resemble the one you saw. Once life had settled down in Camelot, I took Aithusa to Lake Avalon and my magic - combined with that of the Sidhe - managed to cure her of her deformities. Not that the Sidhe were all that co-operative, but they're duty bound to help fellow creatures of magic."

"The Sidhe?" Arthur frowned, casting his memory back to that other life. "Did I ever meet them?"

"As a matter of fact you did... got very close up and personal with one, too." Rhys grinned a little wickedly, getting his own back on Arthur for his earlier jibe.

"I don't remember meeting a fairy! They are fairies... in the original sense of the word?"

"Yes, and you did," Rhys said with a positive nod of his head. "Mind you, she was in her human form at the time. Not sure you'd have fancied her otherwise."

"Fancied her? Merlin, what are you talking about?" Arthur's eyebrows were drawing together, clearly vexed.

"Sophia Tiamor!" Rhys announced with a flourish, adding a little more quietly but pointedly, "Oh, and Arthur, you might want to remember to call me Rhys."

Again, Arthur's brow wrinkled, but this time in concentration. "The girl you told me I'd eloped with? The time you knocked me out and brought me back to Camelot?"

"That's the one. But you were enchanted. They'd bewitched you." Rhys bit his bottom, trying not to smirk as he remembered a besotted Arthur.

"Why would they do that?" Arthur sat up straighter, the stunning view of the countryside completely forgotten. "And I suppose that explains why I had no memory of what happened."

"It does, and it's a long story. Are you sure you want to hear?"

"Yes... Rhys," he answered, exaggerating his friend's current name. Though Rhys was right, he really had to stop saying Merlin in case he blurted it out at the wrong time. But Rhys was just so Merlin... and Merlin had been his first ever real friend. Arthur sighed and returned to the subject of the Sidhe. "You can give me the short version."

"Right! How can I put this?" Rhys sighed before continuing. "Sophia and her father where both Sidhe, but for some crime they'd committed they'd been exiled from Avalon where they lived. To get back home, they had to sacrifice a human prince and I guess you just happened to be handy."

"I'm glad I could be of service... but since I didn't die, I take it that's when you caught up with me and knocked me out. What happened to them?"

Rhys's nose wrinkled. "That wasn't quite the way it happened. I didn't catch up with you until you were at the lake. Sophia was attempting to drown you..."

"And I just let her?" Arthur interrupted, sounding astounded.

"Well you were bewitched at the time... remember? Completely under her spell. Even your eyes turned red like theirs."

"Red eyes?" Arthur shuddered.

"Bright red! You know how my eyes turn golden? Well like that, but red... like the devil.

"Ugh! I'm assuming the Sidhe aren't a very nice race of magic people. Did you kill them?"

"They're not! And I did. I turned Aulfric's own staff on him and he just went up in a puff of smoke as it were. Same thing happened to Sophia. Then I dived into the lake to save you and brought you home."

"So you began rescuing me right from the start?" Arthur said in amazement. "I remember the singer... Lady Helen; she was the witch who tried to kill me."

"I doubt it was Lady Helen. It was probably a very early case of stolen identity. But yes, Uther had had her son beheaded, so she wanted an eye for an eye..."

"A son for a son," Arthur repeated the words that were spoken over a century and a half ago. "I'm guessing you saved me a lot back then."

"You were The Prince, which kinda made you a target for anyone who had issues with The Pendragons..."

"And Uther made sure there were a lot of those," Arthur said sadly; his view of his then father's relentless persecution of sorcery was less forgiving when looked on from his modern day perspective.

God! Uther had committed genocide... and King Arthur might have followed in his father's footsteps had it not been for the steadying and gentling influence of Guinevere and Merlin in his life.

"Then again, Arthur, you were in charge of Camelot's army, so you did do a lot of fighting." Unaware that Arthur had stopped listening and his thoughts had turned a very dark corner, Rhys prattled on cheerfully. "Though I have to admit that as long as the fight was fair and you weren't totally outnumbered, you won on your own without any help from me. I'm not one for fanning your ego... but you were good!"

The unexpected silence caused Rhys to glance over at his passenger. It wasn't like Arthur to ignore a compliment, or to bask in his remembered victories, but he looked like someone who'd just been robbed of his fortune.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Rhys asked, quickly taking his hand from the wheel and nudging Arthur when the blond refused to talk.

"I suppose it's just hit me what a bloodthirsty tyrant Uther... my father really was." Arthur refused to look at his friend, staring out over the rippling waters of the loch instead. "And I didn't rescind these laws against sorcerers," he added bleakly, "which makes me just as bad."

"But you never really carried out any executions either, unless the person used magic to murder someone or commit treason." Rhys fell silent for a moment too, giving Arthur time to digest what he'd said. "And I don't think you'd have executed me had you lived. Would you?"

That got Arthur's attention. "Of course not! I would never have been that ungrateful, nor would I kill my best friend. I'd probably have brought magic back to Camelot, just as you said Guinevere did." This realisation lifted Arthur out of his gloomy mood. He wasn't like Uther... He never had been! He found himself able to say with equanimity, "At least, it's good to know I managed to win some of my own battles without your help. In fact," he added, a grin beginning to lighten his expression. "I'm beginning to think that you might be the cause of my jeopardy. I can't remember being in danger often in this life, yet I'd only just met you and I was having to be dragged unconscious out of a pond. Perhaps you're the jinx, Rhys!"

"Go to hell, Arthur!" Rhys retaliated, only a little annoyed. "And you probably would, if I wasn't around to save you. Remember the prophecy... 'when Albion's need is greatest, Arthur will return.' I didn't even get a mention."

"That's probably because you didn't need to return, you old goat! You've been here forever, which is where this conversation started. I'm not sure I envy you your immortality, Rhys. Though I have to admit, I'd have preferred to have lived longer than thirty years."

Once more, it seemed Arthur might sink into despondency and again Rhys came to his rescue. "Hopefully, this time you will and perhaps my immortality no longer exists."

"What do mean?" Arthur asked, staring at his friend with narrowed eyes.

Rhys's head tilted, considering, while he kept his eyes glued to the twisting road. "I think I was granted immortality while I was waiting for you to return, learning about life... perfecting my powers, so I can help you better in conquering whatever evil purpose lies ahead. I think you and I can both die now..."

"Thanks, Rhys. That's encouraging to know." Arthur let out a derisive laugh. "I suppose that means we better keep our wits about us and hope that some more of our friends have been reincarnated. Somehow I get the feeling we're going to need all the help we can get."

"I wouldn't disagree, but don't forget... I do still have magic. I'm probably more powerful than I was a thousand or so years ago," Rhys stated matter-of-factly, without a trace of

conceit.

"Fuck!" Arthur rolled his eyes. "God help us all!"

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They parked the car in one of the many viewpoints which were built all the way down the lochside and retrieved their backpacks from the boot, which held water and snacks in case they should get hungry or thirsty during the trek. Slinging their bags on their backs, they crossed the road. Rhys climbed over a drystone dyke which appeared to have recently been repaired, Arthur following him, though reluctantly.

"Aren't we heading in the wrong direction?" Arthur shouted, looking over his shoulder at the loch as he began to steadily climb behind Rhys. "Don't people normally hunt for the Loch Ness Monster actually in the loch?"

"Most people do, but we're not most people... and Aithusa can hardly come to meet us in a lay-by which happens to be full of tourists. Besides, she's not really a marine mammal, so she only goes for a swim now and then. Usually when she needs to hide. There's a cave half way up the mountain where I ought to be able to contact her. I'm sorry, but we've a couple of hours hiking ahead of us."

Arthur groaned aloud while he stretched the muscles in his back and neck. "You just refused to let me drive because I still had concussion, but you want me to go yomping up a mountain?"

"I believe marines do that carrying a full kit and our bags hardly qualify," Rhys grinned, leaning against a tree. "But, if you are a big girl's petticoat, you can always wait in the car."

That got Arthur moving and he knuckled Rhys's arm as he strode past him following the narrow path. "What are you waiting for?" He disappeared into the shadowed forest as his voice drifted back, filled with laughter. "Now who's the big girl?"

The two men climbed the trail, first vying for position but soon settling into a steady pace. The day was unusually hot and both were thankful for the shade of the woods, but as they reached higher on the slope, the trees thinned.

"I assumed the dragon would be hiding in the forest," Arthur said, scanning the bleak, rocky landscape ahead of them. "Surely she can't show herself on the bare hillside."

"Who said she would?" Rhys replied, his eyes crinkling in secret glee. "Remember I have magic."

Arthur halted, his hair ruffling in the faint and welcome breeze which blew at the higher altitude. "Are you telling me your magic can enchant the side of a mountain?"

"Not the whole mountain," Rhys admitted albeit reluctantly. "Just Aithusa. I've cast an invisibility spell over more than one particular being, but I've never tried over such an expanse of land." There wasn't a trace of conceit in his tone as he studied the hill before him.

"Jesus! You're serious. Do you mean you could hide the whole area or just the people or animals on it? You're that powerful?" he asked with a mixture of awe and trepidation.

"There are limits to what I can do and it takes a lot of my energy to maintain spells, so I'm not invincible... and what I said earlier about not being immortal any longer is probably true."

"Plus we've no idea who we're up against," Arthur mused, trouble marring his usual confidence. "If I remember well, there were a whole string of powerful sorcerers in Albion. Perhaps they've joined forces..."

"Arthur, shut up!" Merlin had often wanted to say that to his King the first time around, only he'd had to use more guile. Now he could speak plainly and it felt good. He couldn't help but chuckle at Arthur's gaping jaw, but he didn't wait for a response. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, let's go meet an old friend."

As Rhys headed on up the track there was little Arthur could do but follow and they marched on in silence, each man conserving his energy for the climb. Clearly, Merlin had learned to stand up for himself in the last fifteen centuries, which wasn't exactly surprising, and if Arthur was honest, he kinda liked this modern day warlock.

They crested a ridge that dropped sharply down to a small, wooded glen where a mountain tarn shimmered through the fresh greenery. The slopes, other than their approach, were almost sheer, making the valley into a safe haven... or as secure as was possible in this year of 2020.

Recognising his destination from some years earlier, when he had last visited Aithusa, Rhys quickened his step. "Almost there, Arthur. Hurry!" he called eagerly over his shoulder.

Arthur shrugged and trailed after his friend, making his way carefully as the descent, even on this side, was steep and covered in places with loose shale. A sudden shiver coursed through his body as he neared the trees... a feeling that he'd passed through an invisible curtain.

"Did we just enter one of your enchanted domains?" The golden hairs on Arthur's arms stood slightly erect as he passed his hand back and forward through the magical boundary, his sight barely catching a momentary scintillation in the air, so faint he could almost swear it was only in his mind.

"I told you I couldn't create a glamour over the whole mountain, but it's just possible with this wee dell," Rhys laughed, emphasising a Scottish accent. "A couple of hundred years ago, Aithusa and I came here. I lived in a little bothy by the loch above Urquhart Castle," Rhys continued, though his whole being had taken on a despairing air. "I'd been a physician with the British Army during The Napoleonic Wars... and before that with the British Navy in the same conflict. When Napoleon was beaten, I was discharged... completely burnt out. I was heart sick of war, of bloody injuries and dying soldiers, so I decided to go in search of Aithusa. She'd had her own problems. Some of the locals in Wales had spotted her and had decided to hunt her down. Of course, I doubt they'd have succeeded in killing her, but she felt she should relocate and we'd discussed Scotland's suitability in the past, so I took a chance on coming north."

"I'm sorry, Rhys. I guess you and Aithusa have had your share of troubles over the years."

"We've had our moments," Rhys said, sitting on a large boulder. "Yet one thing I've learnt over the centuries is that humankind always finds bigger and better ways of killing each other."

Arthur folded his arms across his chest. "Then Albion never had a golden age?"

"For a time, after your death, the Saxons were quiet and Guinevere ruled over a peaceful land but it fell apart soon after her death and the dark ages came to Britain. I suppose since then there's never been a truly peaceful age." Rhys looked up at Arthur, who was silhouetted against the blue sky, but Rhys didn't need to see his erstwhile king's expression to know it was filled with regret. "But you've studied history, Arthur, you don't need me to tell you that. Britain once had a very rich and powerful Empire, yet it was hardly benign to those over whom it ruled. What I told you was true... King Arthur was special; there never was another like you."

"That's debatable!" Arthur said with a self-derisive laugh. "Hell, they don't even believe I really existed... nor you. We're just a myth now."

"Yet a myth that refuses to die... and one that's known all around the world. Surely that tells you something, Arthur."

The silence in the glade was palpable as Arthur slipped to the ground, leaning his back on Rhys's temporary seat, his blue-eyed stare matching the colour of the heavens as he contemplated Rhys's point. Yet he stayed silent, prompting the warlock to continue.

"It tells me that no matter how bad things get, no matter how greedy and power hungry the men who really rule this world become, the ordinary people cling to the hope that somewhere, someone will champion their cause. Someone who believes in honour, justice and equality, who'll judge them on their abilities and not their social standing. They need to believe in a champion like King Arthur... no matter how fantastical that may seem. They need a hero, Arthur... someone who can give them back their hope."

"I'm not a king anymore and I'm not sure I'm the right material to be a hero," Arthur answered, though there was less scepticism in his voice.

Rhys jumped up. "But you are! You might try to deny it, but you haven't changed. You still believe in all the things that made your kingdom a legend."

Arthur twisted to look up at his old friend. "You really believe in me that much? That I could make a difference?"

"I do... and it's not just me. It was always your destiny to return. The world needs you now." Rhys's voice was reassuring. "Arthur, even before you became King, you were always willing to sacrifice yourself for the good of your people. I believe you're still ready to step up to the plate."

"You think I'm expected to die all over again?" Arthur asked pouting, though his tone was lighter. He picked up a twig and absent-mindedly twisted it between his fingers. "My family does have some influence... and you're right, I still hold true to those ideals Camelot and The Knights of The Round Table embodied." He dropped the twig and stood up, wiping the grass from his jeans. "It's funny, but I actually think my father has picked up some of these traits from my mother too... if only by osmosis."

Arthur stepped up onto the rock Rhys had vacated, gazing off into the far distance where the sharp mountain peaks glimmered purple-blue in the early summer haze. He balanced, completely still, for a long moment, but when he turned his bearing was transformed. Rhys could almost imagine the golden crown upon the one-time playboy's head. If only Arthur had Excalibur!

"Then it's settled! As long as you're with me, Merlin, I'm prepared to face any enemy... any evil that is brewing in this land and fight with everything I have to defeat it." Jumping down from his makeshift dais, he moved closer to Rhys. "Will you stand with me, as you've always done?"

"I think you need not ask. I was born to serve you, Arthur, in all your incarnations."

"I don't want a servant... just be my backup and my friend." They grinned into each other's faces, before exchanging a bear hug, until Arthur pulled back to say. "But we need reinforcements. We need to find the Knights of The Round Table."

Yet before he could say more, a silky voice came from the forest behind them. "I'm not a knight... but will I do? I believe my assistance could prove invaluable."

Both men sprang apart and Rhys called out. "Aithusa! You're still alive. Still here." The lanky man paced into the trees where he found the source of the voice.

"Indeed I am and quite healthy, as you can see." Aithusa preened before her dragonlord. "Your enchantment has worked a treat, Merlin. I can come and go almost as I please, as long as I'm careful when I leave my domain and I follow the caves and tunnels down to Loch Ness and beyond. Your invisibility spell holds good with anyone who doesn't believe in dragons."

Not waiting for the dragon to stop talking, Rhys flung his arms around Aithusa's neck as she bent towards him, uttering something like a purr when he stroked beneath her chin. Behind them Arthur Penderel watched bemused. Who would have thought that dragons still existed? And, at least this one was as tame as a pussy cat, though he got the impression that Aithusa could prove quite an adversary if riled.

He remembered fighting Kilgarrah when he'd escaped his prison. The great dragon had maimed and terrorised Camelot until Merlin had driven him away. Mind you, he'd hadn't known that at the time. He'd believed he'd killed the beast. That was a joke, believing his puny weapons could penetrate such a scaly, tough hide. On the other hand, modern weapons would no doubt be quite effective. He was surprised to find that idea upset him. Aithusa had lived for almost as long as Merlin, hurting no one and she should be allowed to live out the span of her life. He shook himself from his thoughts.

"Is that how it works?" Arthur came forward, smiling in awe at the white dragon who looked a whole lot healthier than the last time he had seen her at Camlann. "You can travel around unseen? Yet I can see you plain as the nose on my face."

"That's because you know I exist. Merlin's spell only works on non-believers, and as that happens to be almost all the population of the world, there isn't often a problem." Aithusa spoke with a touch of pride for her master, though there was a tiny touch of exasperation in her melodic voice. "Now and again, I do encounter a believer, which is why you read of a Loch Ness Monster sighting in your newspapers. Mind you, those grow less and less by the decade. I suspect the common man is becoming a great deal more sceptical about the supernatural than he once was."

"Which is a good thing," Rhys suggested, unable to remove his joyful grin from his demeanour at his reunion with the one friend who had lived as long as he. "At least it means we won't have any uncalled for witch-hunt and you can live out your life in peace."

Arthur screwed up his eyes as he, once again, looked around the vast hillside. On the lower slopes they'd passed sheep, grazing on the open pasture. "I suppose there's deer for you to hunt up here, so you don't go hungry. It wouldn't do for you to go eating sheep that some farmer would notice. Unless Merlin's managed to make your prey invisible too."

"Now that would be impossible," Rhys countered. "Besides, farmers can count. Even if they didn't find the remains, they'd soon realise they were losing stock."

"I used to eat deer," Aithusa said rather mournfully, "But lately I find my teeth aren't quite up to the task of chewing through their hide to get to the meat. Now I prefer the odd rabbit, or grouse, or pheasant. They're very good and I can still grind down their bones. Salmon are a delicacy which I do enjoy, plus swimming is a very good exercise for my old muscles."

Watching Arthur's face as they discussed Aithusa's diet was quite a picture and Rhys couldn't help smiling. Yet they hadn't only come here to pass the time of day... which was a pity. He really had to make more time in his life for Aithusa and this was something he would remedy... just as soon as they'd nullified the danger which faced Albion.

"Aithusa, I'm sorry but this isn't a purely social call," Rhys said apologetically, gaining her attention. "We've come to talk to you about a particular problem..."

"You mean the dancing water?" the dragon interrupted, a low growl coming from the back of her throat.

"You know about it?" Arthur couldn't contain himself, though he'd first thought to leave the conversation to Rhys.

"I do, Arthur Pendragon... though I also know you're no longer he." Aithusa sat, her tail curling around her like a dog while she surveyed the stranger before her. "You do look almost the same, apart from the clothes, of course."

"I suppose in one way I am him, biologically speaking. I wonder if my DNA is the same?" Arthur mulled the idea over, though clearly his question was hypothetical as he continued, without waiting for an answer. "However, I've been brought up in a totally different environment, so I'm not him. I'm Arthur Penderel this time."

"Yes. I brought that to Merlin's notice some years ago," Aithusa informed him, changing back to the subject in hand, completely oblivious to the consternation he'd caused the Penderel man. "And I know about the water in Easdale because I am not a total hermit."

"We've come to ask if you have any ideas on what's causing the sensation. We had the water tested and discovered they were polluted by chemicals which happen to be used in fracking for shale gas," Rhys explained, sitting down on the convenient trunk of a fallen tree.

Arthur decided to helpfully add a little more information to Rhys's explanation. "Fracking is a method used to extract shale gas..."

Aithusa stared disdainfully at Arthur. "There is no need to explain, Master Penderel," she announced witheringly, though her voice remained somewhat sing-song. "I'm not an idiot either. Neither do I think fracking has anything to do with what's occurring in these islands."

Seeing his friend look a little crestfallen, Rhys said quickly, "We thought there might be some underground route which the water might seep through to the western islands."

"There are, Merlin. As you know, I use them to travel to the Atlantic, but they are not the source of your contamination."

"There are tunnels all the way from here to the coast?" Arthur asked, perking up again at that piece of information. "That's amazing!"

"Not quite all the way to the coast, but I can move underground from here to Loch Morar, which isn't far from the Atlantic." Being the centre of Arthur's attention again, Aithusa relented. "You might have heard of Morag?"

"Of course! So there aren't two monsters... just one dragon. Amazing!" Clearly Arthur was so spellbound he could think of only one word to associate with this mythical animal.

"Indeed!" Aithusa gazed down her nose at her dragonlord's companion. She couldn't help but wonder what was so special about this man... yet, Merlin believed in him and the people of Camelot had adored him. He became a legend. Perhaps she should give him a second chance. After all, it wasn't everyday one met a dragon. The poor boy was probably suffering from shock. She'd best get him back on track. "But shouldn't we be discussing the source of those chemicals?"

Aithusa's question snapped Arthur back into executive mode. "It's why we came, and we'd be grateful, Aithusa, for any help you can give us." Arthur, too, found a spot to sit down - a rounded rock which was covered in spongy moss. "We mostly ruled out the natural seepage angle, so it's good you agree. There's a possibility the chemicals were dumped on purpose to discredit our company, but so far we've no proof of that... which left us with the magic card."

Aithusa's large head nodded up and down, much to Arthur's amusement; so many of the dragon's gestures were very human. "Perhaps magic is being used to discredit your company."

"That's pretty much what we concluded," Rhys said, mirroring Aithusa's head action before drawing his knees up onto the tree trunk and balancing somewhat precariously. "Trouble is we have no idea who's behind the sorcery, nor how they're managing to agitate the waters. I was there, and though I sensed something, it wasn't the presence of another sorcerer."

"It must be a powerful enchantment to control such actions over a period of time and at a distance." Aithusa's tale twitched spasmodically as her nostrils flared. She looked dangerous and Arthur couldn't help but wonder if dragons were more akin to cats than dogs when it came to the reasons for tail wagging. Finally, he decided that dragons were very much a unique species... a strange blend of mythical creature and human. "If you want my advice, Arthur Penderel, I'd suggest you take a look at what's underneath the surface. I think you might find some answers."

"That's also in our plans." Arthur offered Aithusa a small smile, beginning to feel more comfortable in her presence. Strangely, he wasn't sure the reverse applied. In Aithusa's eyes, he felt very much as if he was on probation. "I've done a bit of scuba diving myself, but I've sent for a friend. He was a navy diver, but now operates his own business in Grand Cayman... doing really well for himself too, but I'm sure he'd be willing to spare some time to help a mate."

"Mate?" Aithusa looked askance at the ex-king. "I had thought Guinevere was your mate. It is written..."

Not wanting another lecture from the dragon, Arthur hurriedly explained. "Mate. As in friend. It's just an expression these days. Drew's a friend. A good friend."

"Then I think that should be your next step," Aithusa relented a little and grinned toothily at her dragonlord's friend, but quickly turned her attention back to Merlin. "I'm sorry I can't be more help at present, but those ponds are too small and too shallow for such as me. However, I will patrol the skies above Albion to see if I can root out any bad sorcery."

"Thank you, Aithusa. Any help you can give us is appreciated," Rhys left his perch, bowing towards the dragon who returned the salutation. "But be very careful. Our wards might cloak you in invisibility, yet they might not be strong enough against a powerful magician. "

"I will take ultimate care, Merlin." Aithusa too rose, realising the meeting was over and sad to see her visitors go. It had been so long since she had interacted with humankind and she felt inspired to be useful again. "You must not hesitate to ask for my aid no matter the danger. I will call you if I find anything substantial, but, for now, farewell. And you must heed my warning; I fear both of you will face many hazards in the days to come. An evil force has been reborn into this world. One which must be defeated if Albion is to survive."

"Can we conquer it?" Arthur asked, coming to stand beneath Aithusa's great snout. "I know Merlin is the most powerful socerer ever... but he's a good person. Maybe too good. He doesn't kill lightly... and though I don't have his scruples, I don't have magic. If I learned one lesson in my last life it was that magic must be fought with magic."

Aithusa appeared to give Arthur's question deep consideration before answering, while outside the enchanted vale, birdsong, whispering winds and the occasional bleat of a sheep proved that the world went on, regardless of the seriousness of this rendezvous. At last, Aithusa spoke.

"Whoever is your adversary, I believe he is indeed a master sorcerer. The fight for Albion could prove bloody. Yet you are two sides of the same coin and together you can prevail."

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**I usually like to recheck the chapter before I post, but we're leaving tomorrow morning and I still haven't started packing. I better get moving, or I'll be creeping into my bed in the wee small hours of the morning, which isn't good when I have quite a long drive tomorrow.**

**Please forgive any mistakes or typos you might find and please let me know if you enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. I will have limited access to the internet, so if you do have time to add a review, it will make my trip even better to read them.**


	8. Chapter 8 History

**Author's notes: Back home again and ready to post another chapter. We had a lovely trip with some of our family, but unfortunately I was a little too busy enjoying myself to write. Then when I did get home, I'd lots of exciting stuff like laundry etc to catch up with. Believe me, I'd much rather have spent my time writing, but we might have run out of clothes... or food! **

**Where is Merlin when you need him to do half a dozen chores at once?!**

**I'd like to say a big thank you to the readers who left reviews for the last chapter. I'm glad you like my Loch Ness Monster! I'll never pick up one of those tourist Nessie gifts again without thinking of Aithusa. Also thank you so much to those who have added this story to their following or favourite list.**

**Again, I don't own Merlin or the characters, though the OCs are my own. **

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Chapter Eight

History

The trip back down the mountain took less time and was carried out mostly in silence, both men preoccupied with their own thoughts on what had been revealed at the meeting with the dragon. When they reached the car, at last, gloaming was settling over the Great Glen and Loch Ness with a gentle shimmer of golden red upon the water.

They threw their now lighter backpacks onto the back seat of the car and, still without talking, they drove off, Rhys reversing in the parking space and heading back towards Inverness and the airport.

They had driven through the Highland city - busy with tourists enjoying the night-life - and out the other side, when Arthur finally spoke. "Right, I have two questions?"

"Only two?" Rhys inquired, his eyebrows arched in surprise as he searched for the sign which would direct them to the airport.

"Well, only two I can think of for now, though I'm sure there'll be others in the future," Arthur replied with a smirk, but his expression quickly became serious again. "The first one's fairly easy, and I think I already know the answer, but I just want to make sure. What does Aithusa mean when she talks about Albion?"

Rhys didn't think the question was simple. "Great Britain. In particular the main island... England, Wales and Scotland. Those were the original boundaries of Albion from Roman times."

"That was my take," Arthur mused, pulling up the bottom of his jeans and scratching subconsciously at his leg. "So, as King Arthur, I didn't even come close to uniting Albion. Good God, we didn't even have a treaty with Cornwall!" He appeared morose at this thought for a fraction of a second, but his mood was interrupted suddenly. "What the hell is that?" he asked, his voice almost reaching regions where it could crack glass.

Rhys jumped. "What? Where?"

Arthur pulled one leg across his adjacent knee and pointed to a spot on his calf which seemed to be swollen. "That? That thing? Does it have legs?"

A snort of laughter burst from Rhys's mouth. "That's a tick. You probably picked it up during our hike." But when Arthur looked blank, Rhys continued. "It's a bug which burrows its head into your skin and sucks your blood. Didn't we have ticks back in Camelot? I know we had lice and fleas... The times I spent searching through your bed linen or your clothes, especially your gambeson when we came back from patrol! Don't pretend you were too grand to know about these things. And don't go trying to pull that out either!" Rhys shouted a warning, causing Arthur to freeze.

"Why? What's it going to do to me?"

"Nothing. Unless it's infected, but you have to make sure you get the head out and pulling at the thing usually just separates the body form the rest of it. I've a little device in my bag which will do the trick."

"Can't you just use magic?"

"I suppose..." There was a flare of gold from Rhys's eyes and the parasite disappeared with a smattering of Arthur's blood.

"Merlin! Watch it!" Arthur growled, pulling out his handkerchief and wiping at the blood.

"You did ask!" Rhys protested, changing the subject. "Talking of which... what's your second question. I assume it has nothing to do with ticks."

Satisfied his leg was now free of minuscule vampires, Arthur rolled down his trouser leg. "Of course not. I was going to ask how long you've known I was alive again. I believed you'd discovered my existence fairly recently, but something Aithusa said made me think differently."

Rhys considered his answer very carefully, aware that Arthur felt somehow betrayed that Merlin hadn't rushed to his side immediately. "Can't this wait till we get on the plane? I'm driving here."

"You made a dragon and her lair invisible, but you're telling me you can't drive a car and hold a conversation at the same time?" Arthur countered sarcastically, his frown stubborn.

"Not the one that you seem to think is highly important."

This time Arthur paused before continuing. "I don't suppose it changes anything... not really... Yet knowing you knew I was reborn but didn't see fit to get in touch with me... it hurts... kinda."

"I didn't know about you when you were born!" Rhys announced. It was his turn to feel slightly aggrieved. "To be honest, I didn't even realise Benedict Penderel was Uther."

"The name Ygraine Penderel didn't ring any bells?"

Rhys gave all his attention to turning the car into the entrance of the airport and finding the hire car agency's parking lot. He manoeuvred the vehicle in and switched off the ignition, shifting nervously in his seat to face Arthur. "As hard as you may find it to understand, I didn't follow socialite news, nor read trendy magazines about the rich and famous. Actually, sometime in the nineteen-nineties, I became a bit of a recluse... again. I do that when life doesn't seem to be worth living."

A knot formed in his stomach and, grabbing their bags, he almost jumped out of the car. He strode towards the terminal but, as Arthur caught up with him, he swerved and made his way toward the far end of the building where the lights were less bright. He stopped abruptly, leaning his back against the terminal wall and regarded Arthur with an irritated stare.

"I've gone through many conflicts in my long life. I told you about the Napoleonic wars, yet the twentieth century managed to outdo most of what had gone before." Rhys tilted his head backwards, his gaze contemplating the heavens where myriad stars glowed, points of white light against the soft purple backdrop of the night sky. How could something so beautiful exist alongside the horrors he'd witnessed? "You'd think we'd learn to be better, more tolerant as we became more civilised, but that didn't really happen."

Rhys went quiet and still, scarcely breathing, but Arthur was perceptive enough not to interrupt. His friend had evidently been bottling all this pain and despondency inside because he hadn't had anyone to talk to for God knew how long. Well, Arthur was back and, though he was feeling a little let down himself, he was wise enough to know that his hurt didn't compare to Merlin's torment. He moved to the warlock's side and rested next to him... waiting sympathetically.

"You know, The First World War was supposed to be the war which ended all wars... or so it was said," Rhys stated, his voice devoid of inflection. "Yet just over twenty years later, the world was plunged into another one; a war where men's dogmatism and cruelty were given free rein on a massive scale. But even when that was over and so many civilians had been killed, did we stop?" He twisted, slightly, towards Arthur and in the shifting shadows, Arthur could see raw pain reflected sharply in Rhys's eyes. "No! Next we had the Korean War, then the Vietnamese one, which went on forever. Oh, and in between we had a couple of Arab/Israeli conflicts. After that we had The Falklands War... I suppose its saving grace was that it lasted only seventy-four days... But it's amazing how much carnage can be committed in such a short time."

Here Rhys's monologue dried up and his chin dropped to his chest. After a moment, Arthur prompted gently, "Were you there, Rhys?"

"Yes. But I wasn't Rhys Wilson then." Merlin shook his head. "I served as a medic on one of the hospital ships. We treated the men who were injured on the Ardent and the Sheffield. It wasn't pretty... men caught below decks while a fire rages all around them." A wrenching sigh tore from Merlin's throat. "Afterwards, I sort of drifted. Stayed away for a few years, a nobody just wandering around Europe. But even those Falklands pictures faded into insignificance when I saw what happened in Bosnia. I didn't mean to go... but the charities were asking for medically trained staff to go into Sarajevo..."

"And you couldn't turn aside. Oh, Merlin." Arthur wrapped his arm sideways around his friend's slim shoulders, feeling very much like he also wanted to cry, yet holding back because he wasn't the one who'd witnessed so many horrifying events. "You never could turn your back on people who needed your help."

"Help! There was little we could do! Almost nothing. It was genocide, Arthur." Merlin slumped against Arthur's stockier frame. "Don't ask me to relive it. I can't go back there... even in memory."

"No! I never would," Arthur reassured Merlin, but he wished he could pour him a stiff drink. God, he needed one himself. If all this had happened to Merlin in one century, it was appalling to contemplate all the others. Yet Arthur sensed that Merlin needed an outlet... a safety valve to release the pain. "Can you tell me what happened next?" he asked, his voice soft and calm, yet taking charge.

"I stopped being Ewan... Ewan... someone or other. Christ, I've even forgotten who I was then." He shook his head sadly. "I've had so many different identities through the centuries," he said by way of explanation. "At first, it was easy, but it got harder when they started recording people's lives... their births, their deaths. You have no idea how tricky it is now... with all the high tech stuff. I suppose it's lucky I have magic." Merlin's brow wrinkled in concentration. "Maddox! Ewan Maddox. He was a medic in the Falklands and a charity worker in Sarajevo. Then he just disappeared. Merlin came home and hid away in the cottage in Glastonbury. I really do have a home there, you know. I've had it for centuries," Merlin mumbled disjointedly. "I let myself age. You'd have laughed if you'd seen me... I looked like a tramp."

"I'm guessing a modern day Dragoon?" Arthur suggested with the mildest of grins. "You mentioned that cottage before. Is it your bolt hole?"

"Pretty much. I go there when the world gets too much for me to handle... and that's happened a number of times through the ages."

"Is that why you didn't know I'd returned?" Arthur finally asked the burning question.

"Arthur, I was hardly aware of anything," Merlin returned, his glance begging for Arthur's understanding. "I suppose doctors would say I was suffering from post traumatic stress disorder. I lost all sense of purpose... even lost hope that you'd ever return. I wanted to die... but I knew that wasn't possible, so I did the next best thing; I crawled into my shell and tried my damnedest to ignore what was happening in the outside world."

"I'm sorry, Merlin. I wish I could have come back sooner..."

"That wasn't under your control," Merlin interrupted. "You had to wait till destiny called you back. Besides, I did have a friend."

Arthur smiled more brightly. "Aithusa!"

"Yes. She sensed my despair and paid me a visit," Merlin said, feeling able to stand on his own and pushing away from the wall and Arthur's friendly support. "It didn't take her long to realise I'd missed your rebirth. We talked for days about why you were brought back at this specific time? In the end, we decided it didn't matter. We just knew I had to get ready to help you whatever the reason."

"I'm guessing you had to invent a new identity for yourself."

"Exactly. I needed to create a new person again, one whose credentials would withstand the closest scrutiny."

"And you use magic to do that?"

"Pretty much. I created a birth certificate... even a record of my birth at Glastonbury registrar."

Arthur's lips pursed in awe. "That's clever. I'm guessing once you're registered all the rest follows."

"It's a little more complicated... and not all of it is welcome. Like the social services showing up at my grandfather's house - that's mine - to find out how little Rhys was getting on at school. Do you know how difficult it is to hold two opposite ageing spells for a period of months? I didn't know where I was coming from! Thank goodness they were finally satisfied." Arthur couldn't quite suppress a grin at the conundrum his warlock had created for himself, but Merlin continued talking. "Then there's getting a National Insurance number, but again a spell or two comes in handy. Don't worry, Arthur. You're not about to be charged with employing an illegal immigrant," Merlin soothed, giving his boss's arm a friendly punch. "I promise, Rhys Wilson is a legal citizen of the United Kingdom."

Arthur frowned at Rhys while rubbing his arm, yet he didn't complain, remembering the many times he'd done a similar thing to Merlin in Camelot. "I never doubted you. But am I right in saying you became Rhys Wilson a number of years ago?" And as Merlin nodded his confirmation, Arthur went on. "I do wonder how you knew what sort of identity Rhys Wilson should have."

Merlin rolled his eyes and breathed deeply. Clearly Arthur Penderel was more street-wise and persistent than Arthur Pendragon. "I'm assuming you want to know everything?" Rhys heaved another sigh.

"I do! But hold that thought for now. It's getting late and I'd rather listen to your explanation in the comfort of our plane... and, I don't know about you, but I'm starving."

With those final words, Arthur led the way through the terminal to the private jet waiting on the runway, hoping that the air crew had seen fit to stock the fridge. Marching up and down a mountain had certainly sharpened his appetite.

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The two men had found enough food on the plane to satisfy their hunger and, as the jet flew through the now darkened sky on its return journey to Cardiff, they relaxed in the easy chairs provided. Rhys was a simple man, but even he had to admit that this was the way to travel, if you could afford it, and there was no doubt that the Penderels could. The logo on the outside skin of the aeroplane and printed on the chair backs looked like a stylised version of his old friend, The Great Dragon. Kilgarrah would have been proud.

And thinking of dragons... as Merlin stared out the window he wondered if Aithusa was out there, searching the countryside for another source of dark magic. She would do what she could to help him and Merlin could only hope that her cloak of invisibility would hold up.

"Are you thinking about Aithusa?" Arthur's voice came from the seat on the other side of the aisle. The fair-haired man was cradling a glass of white wine, while he stretched out in the recliner chair. "Do you think she'll be safe?"

Merlin swivelled his seat towards Arthur. "I believe so. Aithusa and I strengthened the enchantment during our visit."

Arthur's eyebrows rose in surprise. "I didn't hear you incant any spells."

"Arthur, we used telepathy. Besides, if your magic is strong enough, you don't always have to speak. Aithusa and I have been practising that one for centuries," Merlin explained, seeing that Arthur was genuinely interested in his gift. "Can you imagine the fear it would have created in the middle-ages if people had spotted a dragon flying overhead."

"It caused enough horror in Camelot, as I remember, and with good cause."

"Kilgarrah was angry; the rest of his kind had been wiped out and he'd been imprisoned for years... so yes, he took his revenge. I ordered him to stop... and afterwards, he only tried to help us in the creation of Albion. Believe me, he warned me so many times about Mordred, and if I'd only listened, perhaps you wouldn't have died when you did."

"You weren't to blame, Merlin. I wouldn't have listened either. We should stop trying to hash over our past lives and concentrate on the problems we have now." Arthur took a sip from his glass and savoured the taste for a second or two. "Mind you, I still want to know how you managed to foresee which profession Rhys Wilson should choose, or are your degrees in geophysics magically created too?"

Merlin grinned widely, his white teeth gleaming. "Not at all. I did go to university and I deserved every single one of my degrees. Though I suppose studying magic for fifteen hundred years gave me a bit of an edge. You'd be surprised how organic magic really is. And I'm also not an idiot!"

Arthur laughed heartily. "I know! That was only stupid banter. I never thought you were an idiot, or a coward. In fact, you were probably the bravest and definitely the most loyal man I knew." And just in case Merlin should get a little big-headed Arthur added quickly, "A bit clumsy perhaps..." He narrowed his eyes at Merlin. "Though that might have been part of the act."

"No. No act. I'm still a klutz. It's part of my charm."

"That's debatable!" But Arthur was still grinning, happy to be back sharing a relaxing moment with his erstwhile servant. However, he quickly got back to the case in hand. "OK, I'm willing to accept you went to university and breezed through your masters, but how did you know what to study? Was it only to get close to me?"

"Not only. Though it seemed a good idea since Camelot Industries is heavily into developing new sources of energy." Merlin lifted the bottle of beer from the table in front of him and took a long swill. "And Aithusa and I were becoming increasingly aware that the balance of the world's magic was changing. Working in Camelot Industries as a geophysicist seemed to be the answer to both problems."

Arthur straightened his chair and sat forward. "Then you think the world's climate change is due to magic?"

The warlock grimaced, shaking his head. "If only it were that simple. Someone with magic is exploiting the situation... dangerously so, but giant energy companies have to accept some of the blame. Not, Camelot Industries in particular, but as a whole." He cupped the bottle in his hands, trying to compose what he wanted to say. "Since the Industrial Revolution, business has been bleeding mother nature dry... and all to make a profit. I know they didn't understand what they were doing in the beginning, but the scientific community has been issuing warnings for decades about the danger to the ozone layer and how that changes the climate world wide, but very few companies listened... not even their governments."

"We're listening now, Merlin," Arthur countered, but with a certain amount of fatalism. "Is it too late?"

The slim, boyish looking man leaned back in his chair and, for a second, his eyes showed every one of his many years. "You want the truth, or the comfortable answer?"

Very carefully, Arthur placed his glass on the table next to his mobile and tablet. "The truth. I don't ever want platitudes from you."

Merlin twisted his head on the chair back to look at Arthur, who reminded him of the once and future king more than ever. "I'm not sure. I don't think anyone is... not really. We've done a lot of damage and we'll suffer the consequences for that. Maybe if we stopped doing what we're doing, the earth could recover, but that's just supposition and it would take a long, long time."

Arthur heaved a sigh and reclined his chair again, closing his eyes. "There isn't much I can do about the rest, but I can influence Camelot Industries... and I will, but I've got to get my father onside first."

"Is that possible?"

"Depends on whether I can persuade my mother," Arthur said, smiling.

Rhys noticed that every time Arthur mentioned his mother, a smile lit his eyes. He decided he was looking forward to meeting Ygraine Penderel at the weekend. Meanwhile, he felt very tired and a little dispirited. He yawned loudly.

"Why don't you get some sleep, Rhys," Arthur suggested, deciding to address his friend by his present name, since it seemed their magical adventure was almost over. "After all, an old man like you shouldn't be trekking over mountains." He smothered a laugh.

A cushion from the couch nearer the front of the plane launched itself at Arthur, whacking him over the face.

"Hey, I'm the one who gets to throws things. I might not be able to put you in the stocks these days, but I could still fire you," Arthur warned in mock anger, playing pass the parcel with the offending cushion.

"But you won't," Rhys said sleepily, catching the said cushion and placing it beneath his head. He was almost dozing off when Arthur's mobile started buzzing. "Who'sss...at?" His words ran into each other.

"That's our diver. Drew Spears," Arthur said, his fingers flying over the screen of his iphone. "He's arriving in the UK tomorrow."

"You already asked him?" Rhys turned in the chair which was now almost a bed, snuggling under a handy blanket which he'd found on a shelf. He sighed contentedly. You certainly couldn't make yourself comfortable like this in economy.

"I can speak to my friends, too, without you knowing," Arthur said somewhat loftily, before relenting. "By text... not telepathy. I told him I needed his help ASAP and he's on his way."

"Must be a good friend." Rhys was almost asleep, so he didn't notice Arthur sitting erect at first.

A picture had materialised in Arthur's mind, an image of a man with thick brown hair and dark eyes... and a smile which bordered on apologetic.

"Oh my God! He's Lancelot! Drew Spears is bloody Lancelot!" He turned his startled gaze on Rhys, his blue eyes wide with a mixture of pleasure and apprehension. "How come I didn't realise that till now? And I've just invited my biggest rival back into my life. I am never going to stand a chance with Gwen now!"

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**Author's notes: Well, that's this week's offering. I thought you all might like to hear of some of the things Merlin had experienced while he waited for Arthur to return. I have to admit to feeling very distressed for Merlin as I wrote this chapter, but it just seemed right that he would go through some very hard times and perhaps become depressed and lose hope that Arthur would ever return.**

**I hope you agree with my take on the subject and how I've written it. Please feel free to leave a review, if you have the time. I'd love to hear from you all... and maybe from some of you who've decided to follow my story. I know it's not always easy to choose to come out of lurkdom, but I will very much appreciate your comments.**

**Hopefully, I'll be back to posting once a week on Friday nights.**


	9. Chapter 9 Friends Reunited

**Author's notes: I almost didn't have a chance to post tonight as my real life has been a bit hectic this past week. My husband had a bit of a fall and though he didn't break anything, he did badly bruise all down one side of his body. As he's already disabled, it meant I had an even harder job this week looking after him.**

**However, I didn't want to let you down and I hope you'll be happy with my offering. You'll get a chance to meet Drew. I know not everyone was enamoured with Lancelot in the show, but I hope the modern version is more acceptable.**

**Before you start reading, I want to thank my faithful readers who keep leaving such complimentary reviews... and if you do spot anything which isn't quite right, do feel free to let me know. I want my writing to be as good as possible. And I can't forget those of you who've favourited/followed me and my story.**

**Actually, I know it's completely off track, but I would like to say a thank you to the people who've favourited my other stories, The Strength of Friendship and a Different Road Taken. Both these stories are finished but they have picked up some new readers since. So, thank you very much for following and favouriting them. It means the world to me.**

**I don't own Merlin or the characters from the TV show, but I do enjoy borrowing them for a time.**

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Chapter Nine

Friends Reunited

The next evening found Arthur waiting, not so patiently, for another arrival only this time at Cardiff Central train station. Tagging along with him was Rhys, a situation which was beginning to seem as normal in this day and age as it had in his past life. Not that Arthur had actually requested Rhys's presence, but the warlock was adamant that there was more chance that Drew Spears would recall his Camelot days if he saw the two men together.

The fact that Arthur was practically pacing was due to a certain nervousness about meeting Drew now that he knew the facts. Plus the train was late. He turned restlessly on Rhys. "Didn't you check to see if the train was on time?"

"No. I thought you did, or asked Gwen to," Rhys answered, unable to stop himself from sniping just a little. "He's your friend after all." Since Arthur had awoken around lunch time, he'd acted increasingly like a bear with a sore head. "How come you know Drew, anyway? From what I found out online, he's not exactly someone who'd mix much in your circles."

Arthur squinted at Rhys. "Why? Why should you find it strange that I'd make friends with a guy from a working class background? I made friends with you. Didn't I?"

"I suppose. But I just wondered how your paths crossed, seeing as you went to a public school."

"Been doing your homework, Rhys?" Arthur enquired, his chin lifting regally. "I might have gone to Charterhouse, but I went to a local primary school in Cardiff, as did Anna. My mother didn't like the idea of sending us to boarding school when we were too young."

Rhys grunted. "What did Uther have to say about that? I'm sure he wasn't overjoyed."

"Probably not, but then my mum can usually get her own way with Dad... and she did promise him he could choose our secondary education, which is why I went to Charterhouse. It was his alma mater." Arthur finally gave up striding back and forth and came to sit by Rhys. "I met Drew at school when we were eight years old. We found ourselves in agreement over a bully who was terrorising the younger kids and we persuaded him to stop. After that, it just seemed natural for us to stick together. Mum made all my friends welcome regardless of where they were from, and she encouraged Drew to come around even after I left for boarding school. Over the years, we haven't seen so much of each other, but we've kept in touch." Arthur leaned his arms on his knees and contemplated the ground. "I still can't believe I didn't realise he was Lancelot reincarnated, though."

"Why would you? You've only known about yourself since we met and you fell in that pool." Rhys stuck his hands in his pockets and stared at his friend. "You might not have remembered so quickly if you hadn't hit your head. Don't expect too much from Drew."

"Right. So perhaps I should just punch Drew in the face instead of saying hello," Arthur said with a slight smirk, though Rhys couldn't be completely sure if he was joking.

"That wasn't exactly what I had in mind."

"Don't worry. I won't. Though it might mess up his pretty face, which might help when it comes to Gwen, but I'm afraid he'd probably wipe the floor with me."

Rhys seriously doubted that. Arthur might have joked about his fitness while visiting Aithusa, but Rhys had found out that, apart from being a keen soccer and polo player, Arthur was also trained in Martial Arts. He'd begun at school and still regularly visited a club in the city run by two ex-royal marines. It was a pity he hadn't taken up fencing lessons too.

However Arthur decided to greet Drew remained a mystery, as the London train finally pulled into the station. Arthur marched over to the exit gate, while Rhys hurried behind, an unexpected surge of eagerness lightening his step.

Would Drew, the reborn Lancelot, remember him? Apart from Gaius, he was the one person who'd known of Merlin's magic from his early years in Camelot. A friend who'd accepted him for who he was... magic and all. Perhaps, more of a friend than Arthur himself... but as soon as the thought crossed his mind, he knew that not to be true.

Arthur was his brother, in every way. No, more than a brother. A twin. In mind and in soul. The other side of the coin... the other half of himself.

For hundreds of years he'd waited for Arthur to return, as Kilgarrah had promised. How many times had he imagined that day? Would he sense his presence? Would Arthur recognise him? Would he in some way foresee that momentous occasion?

But when that fateful day had finally arrived, none of these things had happened. There was simply Arthur striding toward him, looking bedraggled and out of place, yet so like the Arthur of old.

The rest of the world had faded away, leaving only himself and Arthur. In that fleeting moment, Merlin's heart had stopped, then it resumed with such a pounding beat it seemed it might burst from his chest. Heat flushed through him and it was a minor miracle he'd managed to act normally. With his spirit filled with joy and an incredible sense of relief, Merlin had known his long wait was over. The two sides of the coin were united once more.

But, for all that, Merlin had cared for Lancelot. He'd reconnected the knight's soul to his body when Morgana had so cruelly rent them asunder. Merlin's was probably the last face Lancelot ever saw, so would he recognise him as Rhys? His hair was a little longer, but just as dark. He still had his over large ears that seemed incongruous with his thin face and high cheekbones and his honest blue eyes hadn't faded with age. His body was perhaps slightly better built... and if he continued to train with Arthur, he might actually develop some abs.

Rhys felt an involuntary grin curl his mouth as he spotted the familiar figure sauntering down the platform to meet them. Drew's walk was casual, but there was a hint of strength and confidence in his movement. This was Lancelot from The Round Table days and not the young dreamer who'd come to Camelot seeking to be a knight, who'd killed the griffin with Merlin's magical help and thus discovered his secret. In the present, Drew's hair might be styled differently and his skinned tanned but Rhys would recognise him anywhere. He held back as Arthur and Drew grappled, pounding each other's backs.

"Welcome back to sunny Cardiff, my friend," Arthur said, grinning and pointing upwards. "You'll notice I've ordered the sun for you since you're used to warmer climes."

"You call this warm?" Drew countered, giving a mock shiver. "I'm likely to die of hypothermia."

"I told you not to go to The Caribbean. You've become a hot-house plant."

"Grand Cayman suits me very well, Arthur. You should try it more often. I haven't seen you since you visited three years ago."

"That's because I work for a living. Not like you who spends most of his time basking on a beach, or swimming in those gorgeous waters..."

"Hey, I make decent money out of my business and, if it happens to be located in paradise, who am I to complain?" Drew rumpled Arthur's carefully combed hair. To Rhys, who stood watching, it was obvious that the dynamic between these two men had altered slightly. The modern day Lancelot smirked. "Besides, your work isn't all that bad either. I saw a photo of you living it up on your yacht in Monte Carlo recently."

"What can I say? The Penderel yacht is moored there for most of the year and I love Formula One. It seemed a waste not to use it," Arthur replied, returning the laugh before backing away. "As it was, I never got to stay for the race because of work, which is where you come in. But before we get down to business, I'd like you to meet Rhys Wilson." Arthur beckoned Rhys forward as he spoke and performed the introductions.

Rhys shook Drew's proffered hand; Drew's handshake was firm and his smile open. Yet, after a second, the former knight's eyes narrowed as he stared at Rhys.

"Have we met before?" Drew asked, his mind appearing to search through his memories. "Maybe with Arthur?"

"I don't think so," Rhys replied, disentangling his hand from Drew's while casting a hopeful glance at Arthur. Did they want Drew to remember in a crowded railway station?

Quickly, Arthur rode to the rescue. "No, Drew. Rhys is a new work colleague. Well, he's a friend too, but I only met him a few days ago. We're working on the same project and he's been a huge help. It's amazing how well we get along, too. Got a lot in common."

"Right," Drew said slowly, though as he glanced between the two men, it was clear he found that difficult to believe. Arthur was a sportsman, definitely into physical pursuits while this Rhys looked like a stiff breeze might knock him over.

"I'm stronger than I look," Rhys said, then coloured right up to the tips of his ears.

Drew's frown deepened. "How do you know what I'm thinking?"

Wrapping his arm around Rhys' neck in a wrestling hold, Arthur grinned, patting his warlock on the head. "Come on, Drew! Even I knew what you were thinking. I mean... it's obvious. Rhys is kinda a science geek and I'm... not. Mind you, he's a brave science geek 'cause he saved my life just minutes after meeting me. So I guess I owe him." Arthur offered as an explanation. "Come on. Let's get out of here. I parked the car in the drop off area and no doubt I've picked up a parking ticket by now. I'll explain everything once we get back to the apartment. You can stay with me, Drew."

As Drew bent to pick up his travel-bags, Rhys said telepathically, _"Thanks. I forgot for a moment there. It was a bit spooky seeing Lancelot again... and he almost remembered me! But you can let me go now. I'm not about to make that mistake again."_

Arthur freed Rhys and, taking one of Drew's bags, he led the way from the station. Despite the fact that he was apprehensive about introducing Drew to Gwen, he felt surprisingly light-hearted now that four members of the original Round Table were back together.

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"Impressive." Drew nodded, as he stood on the roof terrace of Arthur's apartment, gazing out over the wide expanse of Cardiff Bay, the evening sun pleasantly warm on his face. He might not admit to it, but he was enjoying the fresher weather, the breeze which blew in from the water preventing the temperatures from reaching levels which were too hot to bear. "How long have you lived here?"

Arthur took a swallow from his bottle of beer before replying. "About four years. It's a great place to live. Cardiff has changed a lot since you left." He wiped some froth from his upper lip with the back of his hand. "Ever think of coming back?"

Drew shook his head. "No way. There's nothing here for me anymore."

"Don't you have relations here?" Rhys asked, joining in the conversation from a sun-lounger, set out on the decking by a large pot plant. He was a little more blasé about Arthur's home, having stayed the night before. They'd arrived back late from Scotland and Arthur had refused to drive to Newport where Rhys was renting a small terraced house, suggesting he should stay in one of the guest bedrooms instead. The modern penthouse might not be quite Rhys's style, but he was just the tiniest bit envious.

Drew turned sideways to answer Rhys, resting his arm and drink on the balcony balustrade. "I lost my father when I was young and my mother died some years ago."

"I'm sorry," Rhys said quickly, his voice full understanding. He'd seen too many deaths and none more poignant than those whom he'd sent on their final journey to Avalon. "I know what it's like to lose people you love."

"Thank you. I barely remember my dad, but I was a teenager when Mum passed away, so it took me a while to get over her loss, but time does make a difference," Drew admitted with a wistful smile. "Now, apart from a couple of elderly aunts who live in Caerleon, there isn't anyone I'm close to."

"Which is why my mum took him under her wing," Arthur smiled. "She has a thing for waifs and strays," he continued but without his usual edge of sarcasm. "Not that Drew was a waif. He still had his mother then."

"I did and Ygraine was good to her, too. Gave her a job as her cook, which Mum loved to do."

"Thank goodness for that. One thing my mother cannot do is cook," Arthur said with a grimace. "Molly saved us from starvation. Don't worry, Rhys, Mother won't be doing the cooking tomorrow night. Since Drew's mum died, father insisted we get a fancy chef. Mind you, even he admits his roast dinners can't hold a candle to Molly's."

"Talking of food," Drew said, stretching and rubbing his taught stomach. "Are you going to feed me tonight? And don't say you're going to cook 'cause you take after your mother in the food department."

"Didn't you eat on the plane?" Arthur asked, looking totally unconcerned. Cooking was not one of his strong points, but what did it matter? That's what restaurants and take-outs were for and, if all else failed, he could always raid his parents' fridge. Chef George always made extra just for him.

"Yes! But that was hours ago. I've been on the train to Cardiff since then, and you might remember the train was late. We got stuck outside Swindon for ages."

Both Arthur and Rhys grinned in resignation. "The joys of train travel in Britain. Some things never change," Arthur remarked. "But don't worry, I won't inflict my cooking on you, though my skills have improved. I've ordered a Thai take-out, instead."

While Arthur was talking, a shiny red Mini-Cooper drove into the parking lot at the side of the building and a leggy, dark-haired maiden unfolded herself gracefully from the driver's seat, grabbing Drew's attention. She smoothed her unruly curls and straightened her black and white print dress.

"Now there's someone I might come back to the UK for," Drew stated, watching as the young woman walked towards the entrance, balancing perfectly on her extremely high heels.

Arthur's eyes followed the direction of Drew's gaze and he immediately blanched. Guinevere! He'd been right about Drew and Gwen and he was going to be rebuffed once more. Only, she wasn't Guinevere and he had no bond with Gwen other than close friendship. After doing a lot of soul searching that afternoon, he'd vowed that, if Gwen was attracted to Drew, he wouldn't interfere and Arthur Penderel was as true to his word as was Arthur Pendragon.

"That's Gwen, my PA, though I've no idea why she's here... unless she has something important to tell us. You'll meet her in a moment or two." And Arthur went to answer his intercom and allow Gwen into the complex.

Watching from the sidelines, Rhys witnessed Drew's anticipation and Arthur's dejection. Why did it have to be so? Since so many other fates seemed different in this incarnation, it didn't seem fair that three of the people he cared for most should be embroiled in a love triangle once more.

Whoever wrote the adage that all was fair in love and war didn't know what they were talking about. War was the very devil... and love could hurt like hell. Rhys knew that only too well from his own experience, yet he couldn't ignore the hope which was growing inside him that his Freya might be reborn as well... and this time they might have a chance of a life together.

Meanwhile, Arthur was welcoming Gwen into his apartment, while Drew hovered in the background waiting for his introduction. Surprisingly, Rhys saw Arthur take hold of Gwen's shoulders and plant a light kiss on her cheek. Did this mean the prat was actually prepared to fight for her love? Gwen appeared slightly taken aback by his action, too, though she didn't seem upset.

"Hi, Gwen. I didn't expect to see you tonight..." Arthur stumbled over his words. That probably wasn't the best greeting if he wished to woo Gwen. "I mean... it's not that I'm not happy to see you. You know you can drop by any time you like..." His voice died away as he saw the look of bewilderment on Gwen's face at his hesitation and how her expression changed to one of interest as her glance strayed beyond him to his other visitor.

However, remembering his promise on non-interference, Arthur cleared his throat and stood aside as he said, "Gwen, this is Drew Spears, a very old friend of mine who's agreed to help us with the Easdale problem. Drew, I'd like you to meet Gwen Armour, my wonderfully efficient PA and one of my closest friends."

Smiling and excessively sexy, Drew stepped forward. He took hold of Gwen's right hand and, bowing over it, he brushed his lips over her skin. Neither Arthur nor Rhys thought the old-fashioned greeting out of order as they were transported back in time. If Gwen was surprised, she certainly wasn't offended as she gave Drew one of her softly glowing smiles.

"It's very nice to meet you, Gwen." Drew's voice was full of warm admiration, while his eyes held her mesmerised.

"_Arthur," Rhys hissed. "Are you just going to let Drew step in and steal her away? Do something!"_

Arthur stared at his warlock with narrowed eyes. _"She isn't mine, so technically she can't be stolen from me."_ Yet, clearly, he wasn't adverse to Rhys's helpful hint as he addressed Gwen aloud, "Is there a particular reason you came by, Gwen? Like I said, you're welcome, but it's not like you to visit unexpectedly."

Gwen, finally, pulled her hand back from Drew's grasp and her dark skin flushed prettily. It was true she didn't visit Arthur's home by chance, not since she'd interrupted his clearly intimate dinner date with the lovely Vivian. That woman might have been beautiful but she was also a spiteful witch and Gwen was eternally glad when Arthur had decided to ditch her. Gwen would be the last person to admit she'd been jealous because that would mean she had feelings for her boss, which, of course, she didn't. They were best friends and so she was very protective. After all, being a rich and eligible bachelor, Arthur had had many unsuitable women make a play for him.

What was she thinking? The flustered PA shook herself from her reverie. This Drew Spears had quite an effect on her... though why he should prompt her to question her feelings about Arthur, she had no idea. She set her confusion aside and got down to business where she was on much steadier ground.

"It's Anna," she blurted out, still slightly disorientated.

Immediately, Arthur was alert. "What's happened? Has Anna had an accident... or been arrested, or something?" It hadn't been the first time Anna's profession as a photo-journalist had got her into trouble, but normally in third world countries where she'd exposed government fraud... or worse. As far as he'd known, this current job had only been reporting at the Cannes Film Festival. They'd even arranged to meet up on the yacht in Monte Carlo, but his schedule had been ruined by the happenings in Scotland.

"No! No, nothing like that," Gwen said hurriedly. "But it does seems weird. She texted me this afternoon. She's not coming home tomorrow."

"That's hardly shocking news. You know, Anna. She's always rushing off somewhere at the drop of a hat, chasing a story," Arthur replied, yet his brow furrowed. "Though it's unusual she would disappoint Mother like that; not at the last moment. Does my mother know?"

"I don't think so," Gwen answered, biting her lip. "I met your mother for lunch and she's still planning Anna's homecoming dinner. I did text Anna back to ask for details, but she's being very mysterious."

"She must be doing something she thinks I won't approve of because I haven't heard from her." Arthur fished his mobile from his back pocket to check his messages; even went to the landline to check incoming calls. "Nope, no missed messages or calls. Mind you, she could be annoyed that I stood her up last week, but we've an understanding that work comes first, so that doesn't really hold water. Didn't she tell you anything, Gwen?"

"Apart from the fact that she's meeting someone in Paris... No, nothing else."

"She's upsetting our parents to go chasing after some new bloke, who she'll probably fall madly in love with then chuck in a couple of months?" Arthur threw himself down on a large leather chair in disgust. "She might be my sister, but sometimes I feel like wringing Anna's neck."

Gwen walked a little nearer to Arthur. "I don't think so. Not that she actually said anything in her text, but from the conversation we had on Skype - remember, I told you I'd talked to her - she was enthusing over this woman she'd met..."

Arthur's eyebrows climbed towards his hairline. "A woman? You're saying my sister is gay?"

"No! I only meant she seemed really taken with this... person," Gwen said quietly, though she did squirm under Arthur's penetrating gaze before adding bravely, "Would it matter to you if she were?"

Arthur gave himself a few minutes to think. "No. Of course, it wouldn't matter... if that was really her choice. But, Gwen, Anna's been interested in guys since she was a teenager. Isn't it kinda strange she would suddenly prefer a woman?"

"Not necessarily," Drew put in. "Especially since it seems she's never made a real connection with any of these men. Perhaps she's been looking for the wrong gender."

Rhys wandered into the body of the room. "I don't know Anna, so I can't really comment... but is it usual for her to pass over her parents for a stranger? From what you've told me, Arthur, Anna thinks the world of her mum and dad."

"She does." Arthur sent Rhys a grateful glance. He had no idea why he should be so upset that his sister might be interested in a woman. This was the twenty-first century; he had gay friends. Yet the idea of Anna and this woman, whoever she might be, made him anxious. Merlin's funny feelings infecting him again. "Normally, she'd just have her latest boyfriend tag along on a visit to the citadel and watch as the poor sod was taken to pieces by Father's interrogation. I used to think she did it on purpose. Some sort of test. They mostly dropped off the radar after meeting Mum and Dad."

"Just because she's meeting up with a woman doesn't mean she's gay," Rhys said reasonably.

"Exactly! We're jumping to conclusions," Arthur smiled again, relaxing once more and totally ignoring the fact that he was the one who'd raised the question about Anna's sexuality. "What's everybody doing standing around? Sit down. Gwen, you'll stay for dinner, won't you? I've ordered in Thai, which ought to be arriving soon and I always over order, so there should be plenty for us all."

"It's not necessary, Arthur. You have friends..." Gwen suddenly felt self-conscious. She ignored his request to sit and backed towards the door. "I should go."

But Arthur rose quickly and intercepted Gwen on her way out. "I do... but you're a friend too," he said, taking hold of her arm lightly and leading her to the chair he'd just vacated. "Rhys and Drew don't mind if you join us. Do you, guys?"

Both Rhys and Drew assured Gwen they would be happy for her to stay and as Gwen had no plans for the evening, she allowed herself to be persuaded. Once more, Arthur's intercom chimed and a disembodied voice announced that their dinner had arrived.

"See! Perfect timing," Arthur said with another grin and went off to collect the food and pay the delivery person.

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The conversation during dinner was pleasantly uncomplicated, accompanied with lots of laughter as Arthur and Drew caught up on their current lives and Drew got to know both Rhys and Gwen. When the food was totally consumed, the four friends got up from the table and ranged themselves around Arthur's large cream leather suite. Rhys grinned privately as Arthur made sure that Gwen sat in one of the chairs and went to sit on the sofa with Drew.

Anna had hardly been mentioned during dinner but, as they drank their coffee - Arthur at least managed to operate the coffee machine - he returned to the subject of his sister's whereabouts and her mysterious friend.

"Gwen, are you sure Anna didn't tell you who her new friend was?" he asked, taking the other chair.

Swallowing another sip of her coffee, Gwen placed the mug carefully on the table before her. "No, Arthur. I would have told you if she had," she replied, bridling a little. Gwen had no idea why, but she thought Anna was being strangely secretive, and it bothered her that she couldn't be more forthcoming with Arthur. "Though she did say I would love this woman when I met her, so she must be intending to bring her back to Cardiff. She just didn't say when."

"And that was it?" Arthur continued with his interrogation, not realising he was doing a very good impression of his father. "Anna didn't mention her name?"

"She mentioned she was beautiful, but when I tried to get more out of her, Anna clammed up. You know how stubborn she can be, Arthur."

Gwen was wilting under Arthur's stare and he immediately regretted taking his frustration out on her. "I'm sorry, Gwen. I didn't mean to give you the third degree. I'm just worried about Anna. About a number of things if I'm honest."

"Easdale?" Gwen asked, her tender heart full of sympathy for the man she'd cared about for such a long time, but one she thought was miles out of her league.

"Yes. One of the things," Arthur said, smiling at her to rob the tension of yet another question. "I take it you didn't come to tell us Matthew has discovered the name of our anonymous poster?"

"I'm afraid he hasn't. Not yet. Actually, he's a bit puzzled." Gwen edged forward to the edge of her chair. "Whenever he feels he's getting close, he loses the trail. Cybernet trail, that is," Gwen added for the benefit of Drew. "Matthew's sure he's chasing someone who really knows their way around a computer. Not just your run of the mill hacker."

"_Or someone who knows how to use magic to manipulate the web," Rhys said, directing his voice to Arthur while seeming intent on listening to Gwen._

Arthur said nothing, but his almost imperceptible nod expressed his agreement.

"I hope you haven't asked me over here to help with that," Drew stated with an apologetic grin. "Because me and computers don't see eye to eye."

"Of course not," Arthur said. "We need your help up at Easdale to search for something hidden in these weird quarries which have filled up with sea water. I don't think they're very deep, but the bottoms are probably rocky and sharp and there could be deeper holes in places."

"The visibility is next to nothing," Rhys added. "And I say that from personal experience. When I jumped in to save Arthur, I couldn't see a thing. I had to feel around for him."

"Yeah, it was lucky you found me or I'd have drowned."

Drew's brown eyes darkened in shock. "That's not like you, Arthur. I've always thought you were a pretty strong swimmer."

"I was unconscious at the time due to a crack on the head," Arthur said, with a tiny self-depreciating smile. "I owe Rhys my life."

Turning to Rhys, Drew's smile brightened the room. "Thanks for that. I might not see this reprobate all that often, but I'd be sad to lose him."

The four friends shared a laugh, but Arthur couldn't help but notice that Gwen's attention was caught by Drew's gleaming smile. He cleared his throat, audibly, before turning back to Drew. "Will you help us? We've made friends with one of the islanders. I'm sure she's not into diving, but she does know a lot of local information."

"I'm here to help. Anything you need."

"Thanks, Drew." Arthur leaned over and shook Drew's hand. "I knew I could rely on you."

"Right. Now we've got that established," Drew said, relaxing back into the cushions of the couch and stretching his legs out. "What are we looking for?"

"Well... we're not exactly sure," Rhys admitted, trying hard to be as laid back as this modern day Lancelot. "Something that can cause the water turbulence, but we don't know what."

"Also, we do know there are chemicals in the water," Arthur added, honestly. "Nothing that should cause too much harm as long as we take care."

Drew was beginning to look slightly perplexed. "So we're looking for something unknown in polluted waters. Where do these chemicals come from... and why are you interested?" His glance strayed between the two men. Clearly, he was sensing there was some mystery about the dive.

Once more, Arthur cleared his throat. "Rhys is our geophysicist and it's been alleged the contamination comes from one of Camelot's fracking sites near Glasgow."

"Hell! That can't be good for business." Drew wiped his hand across his face. He'd been travelling for over twenty-four hours and he was finding it hard to concentrate. He recalled his time as a navy diver and how he'd been able to do much longer stints without feeling the least tired. And before that... but here his jaded brain hit a wall. His life on Grand Cayman was making him soft. He gave himself a mental shake, returning to the problem at hand. "But is that possible? I'm not an expert on Scotland, yet I was stationed at Faslane, which is south of those islands. I wouldn't have thought pollution could travel that far."

"It's not impossible though, under the circumstances, unlikely," Rhys answered, feeling a bit exhausted himself. Ever since he'd met Arthur, he'd been on the go.

"Have you ever dived in these waters?" Gwen asked. She couldn't explain why, but Drew felt somehow familiar and she liked what she saw. He was a very good-looking man, his smile friendly and his brown-eyed glance caring. Perhaps brown eyes did not trump Arthur's gorgeous blue gaze, but then Arthur had always been above her and Gwen was realistic enough not to waste her life pining over what she couldn't have.

"As a matter of fact, I have. Some of the boys and I used to spend time diving many of the wrecks near Oban, so I know where Easdale is, though I've never vis... visited." Drew's words finished on a massive yawn, which he smothered with his hand. "I'm sorry. All this sounds quite mystifying and I'm guessing there's a connection, but right now I'm finding it difficult to stay awake. Maybe you could show me where to bunk down, Arthur, and we can catch up on the details tomorrow?"

"Sorry, Drew. I should have realised you'd be tired," Arthur remarked, standing up and moving towards the passageway leading to the bedrooms. "Your bedroom's down the hall, second on the right. The first door is the bathroom. Make yourself at home."

Drew stood and stretched the kinks out of his back, smiling down on both Rhys and Gwen, though his glance dwelt on Gwen for some long seconds. "It was really nice meeting you... both of you," he amended quickly. "I'm sorry I'm spoiling the party, but I look forward to seeing you again." Another yawn split his face. "I really should go before I disgrace myself any further."

Gwen almost jumped up, saying kindly, "But you didn't. Jet-lag is a pain." She smoothed her dress down, realising it had ridden up on her thigh as she sat. "I'm sure we'll see a lot of you in the near future." Gwen blushed, thinking she'd seemed too eager. "I mean we'll be working together... for Camelot."

Arthur suddenly found his carpet very interesting. He hated seeing his two best friends fall for each other, especially since he was in love with one of them.

"It was nice to meet you," Rhys said, offering his hand to Drew and his silent sympathy to Arthur. "I should go. The drive to Newport doesn't take too long, but I've still got to pick up my car from Camelot."

"Rhys, I could give you a lift to the office," Gwen offered, always ready to help out. "It's not very far out of my way."

"You can stay here again, Rhys. There are three bedrooms," Arthur said with the slightest hint of a plea in his voice. He had the uncomfortable notion that he'd spend the next morning fielding Drew's questions about Gwen.

"Arthur, I have to go. This past week, I've hardly spent any time at home. I really have stuff to do. Like laundry. You might have a cleaning lady, but I've got to do all my own chores."

"_Poor Merlin! You always did have too many chores." _

Aloud, Arthur said, grinning, his eyes crinkling at the edges. "Don't we pay you enough to get someone in? I tell you, Rhys, if we can solve this problem, you'll never have to do chores again."

There was a flurry of goodbyes, before Drew disappeared down the dimly lit corridor, while Arthur escorted Gwen and Rhys out of the flat to the elevator. "OK, allow me to see you both off the premises," he said, pressing the call button. "And Gwen, thanks for coming over. It was nice to see you outside the office. We really should do it more often."

Again, Gwen coloured up, her head drooping on her long neck, but she couldn't help but look up at Arthur through her dark lashes. "Thanks for asking me to dinner. It was nice." Suddenly, she seemed flustered. What was she thinking, flirting with two men in one evening? "And we will be doing this again," she blurted out. "I mean, all four of us... at the citadel this Saturday."

At this Arthur laughed. "Yeah. All of us but the guest of honour, who's living it up in Paris with some unknown female. What's the bet that Anna's mysterious friend is Morgause?"

The elevator had reached the penthouse level and the doors opened, yet neither Rhys nor Gwen moved, each one frozen by Arthur's suggestion.

"Nah," Arthur declared immediately. "That would be too much of a coincidence. Besides, we still don't know who Morgause is. The internet is anonymous. For all we know, he could probably be some hairy biker type."

"You hope," Rhys retaliated, but it was clear he was troubled. He'd been imagining the very same scenario as Arthur since Gwen had told them Anna wasn't coming home.

"You two! Stop! I'm sure Anna's friend will be perfectly... appropriate," Gwen said, ever willing to think the best of a situation. "Goodnight, Arthur," she said softly, then was taken completely by surprise as Arthur leaned forward, fleetingly brushing his lips over hers. He hadn't done anything like that since university.

"Night Gwen," he almost whispered. So much for non-interference. He turned away, so she wouldn't see his blush. "Night Rhys. Drive safely and I'll see you both tomorrow."

"See ya," Rhys called, locking glances with Arthur as the doors closed.

"_You've got a funny feeling, too, don't you?"_

Arthur's telepathic communication followed Rhys as the lift descended. He prayed Arthur was wrong, yet he couldn't rid himself of the feeling that someone had walked on his grave. Only he wasn't ready to admit that at present.

"_Don't be a prat. Go to sleep. You're jealous; you're overtired and your imagination is playing tricks on you. Night, Arthur."_

"_Yeah, yeah, but you don't fool me. You feel it too, Merlin. And don't moan at me for calling you Merlin, because no one else can hear me, so I'll call you what I like. See you tomorrow, Merlin."_

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**Author's notes: So that was Friday's chapter. What did you think? Please review if you've any spare time as you keep me on my toes and you also give me the inspiration to keep going when my real life seems a bit fraught.**


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